


Love Endless (Path to Permanence)

by wubwubnparmaham



Series: Love Endless [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1970s, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ancient Roman! Harry, Angst, Blood Drinking, Bottom Louis, Do they switch, Fluff where it makes sense, Graphic Violence, M/M, Murder, Road Trips, Smut, Top Harry, Vampire Harry, Vampire Zayn, Violence, trials and tribulations, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 241,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wubwubnparmaham/pseuds/wubwubnparmaham
Summary: So now Louis' finally done the love thing, and it's already in jeopardy? Just his luck.Harry's evil twin is back, and that can't mean anything good. It never has.Even with the help of friends, will Harry and Louis be able to keep him at bay? And is Auron really who they should be worried out?...Only one way to find out.[Book 2/4]





	1. You're Coming With Me

**Author's Note:**

> NEW READERS: *!!! THIS IS A SEQUEL. IT WILL NOT MAKE ANY SENSE IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST !!!*
> 
> Okay, guys! First off, my infection is gone, and I passed my kidney stones. Aka, I'm not dying anymore. 
> 
> Secondly, you guys have been innnncredible for Love Endless, and I hope you enjoy part two of their crazy, mysterious journey.

It was amazing that not much had been able to shock Louis this far into his wild ride of a life. What he’d just heard had obliterated that barrier, but let him remind you of the past events that had paved the way to his present time.

He’d stumbled across a presumably haunted mansion after getting chased through the woods by his high school’s hate-fueled football team, and took brave shelter inside. The interior had fascinated and enamoured him, and the estate itself had served as the perfect and most interesting escape from the rain, but it hadn’t been haunted—merely occupied.

An unknown voice had shouted at him to get out—the command unspokenly laced with after-threats that Louis hadn’t wanted to stick around to hear—and he’d left as soon as he’d gathered the strength to do so. But something in him hadn’t been able to leave it behind. He’d returned the very next day to scope out that magical place of fairy-tales, regardless of it being more the villainous dark castle of such stories, and found the mystery case of a lifetime.

He routinely invaded day after day, learning more perplexing things about the invisible owner with each new room he peeked in. Such findings had directed him to the only theory that made any sense, whilst at the time, making no sense whatsoever—that the owner was immortal. And possibly the vampiric kind.

On a last limb of trust, after getting kicked out of his Father’s house for being gay, he’d sought refuge once more in that daunting monster of a house, praying that the owner Harry would take him in. As fate would have it, the god-like Harry had been exceptionally welcoming, though he’d accidentally mistaken Louis for someone he wasn’t...but maybe...Louis’ still working on that one.

Through a brilliant string of planning, Louis had succeeded in outing Harry before he did it himself, and the secret was out—Harry was an ancient Roman vampire. This revelation might have surprised him if he hadn’t already snooped the mansion’s halls, but as it were, he’d caught on pretty quickly, and Harry’s validation was just that—a confirmation of what Louis had already suspected.

It hadn’t taken long at all after that event for the two creatures to fall into romantic step together, confessing their quickly-bloomed love for each other and becoming the world’s oddest couple. Strange happenings had transpired over the course of their new relationship: visions, personality shifts, telling dreams of ancient history, hallucinations, and inexplicable hunches; all centering around Harry’s past love, Alexander, and his apparent connection to Louis’ consciousness.

Neither had cracked the full code on the oddities quite yet, but give them some time, it’s only been two and a half weeks since his initial break-in. That’s one of the parts that Louis can’t wrap his mind around. All of these life changes had taken place over the course of a bundle of days, but to Louis, it had felt like a lifetime. Which is silly coming from him, when Harry’s been around since 76 a.d..

This all leads up to where he was now, on the first of May, in the year 1973, straddling his vampire’s hips at the kitchen table as he was given a chilling piece of news that would stain their future for an indefinite period of time. The return of Harry’s evil twin, essentially, Auron Aelius. A look-alike sibling of nefarious intentions who had repeatedly lashed out at Harry for assuming the throne of the Roman Empire when he was the eldest of the two. After his rule had been stolen, he had murdered many of Harry’s lovers, including Alexander, and Louis didn’t know exactly what they were all in for...but he was one of those lovers now...so it's not looking too good.

“What do we do?” Louis asked in a tiny voice, flashes of a confusing memory pertaining to Auron projecting through his thoughts and making him shudder.

“I don’t wish to worry you needlessly...but Auron poking his head around this area can only really mean one thing—he knows I’m close...but not where, or he’d be here,” Harry hypothesized, sharing an anxious look with Louis as he pieced together the facts and fully grasped the kind of danger they were in.

“Well he’s certainly not in Brimsville to sightsee,” Zayn (Harry’s unintended best friend) uttered to their side, a dark look casting shadows on his usually snide face.

“Zayn, if you’re not going to be any help, you can leave,” Harry sighed in exasperation, halting his nervous thigh-bouncing and closing his arms around Louis’ warm body. No way would he let his brother have this lover. No way in hell.

“How did he even know where to start at all?” Louis asked, seeking Harry’s troubled eyes while he rested the side of his face on the vampire’s chest.

“... I can’t know for sure...” Harry began grimly, obviously having some form of theory in his mind. His head fell back and hit the wall with an audible thump; the more they spoke of this, the realer it became. “But I’m betting someone at _Sharp_ _Tongue_ , a blood club Zayn and I went to recently, is in cahoots with him, though I didn’t think I’d noticed anyone that could be painted with that brush. Or perhaps they were not aware of our divide, and simply mentioned that he or she saw someone who looked _just like him_ at the club,” he said with a legendary eyeroll and mocking tone of voice. “Either way, that’s why it’s a stupid idea to go back there, Zayn. And give this third-party chess piece more material? A chance to gather deeper information?” he challenged.

Zayn’s eyebrows came together as he stared at his hands pensively, wracking his brain for any and all possible actions that wouldn’t inevitably end in unnecessary bloodshed. Though he was scared for himself and the inhabitants of the Styles mansion, he couldn’t let go of his flippant personality, and he hid his fear with great conviction. “Hey now, we don’t know for sure if word leaked out from the _Sharp_ _Tongue_. Someone really close to him would have needed to be around for that, and you were the eldest immortal there. Practically turning into dust in that den of teenagers.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shot down, hooking his chin over the quiet Louis’ shoulder and speaking directly to the Pakistani. “You don’t know what he’s like. He has connections everywhere. He spent a long time building a loyal fanbase for himself, and he succeeded in a lot of endeavors because of their help—becoming the Emperor of Rome centuries after it had been taken over and reclaimed as Italy was definitely one of them. The contacts and followers he _gained_ from that, not to mention the old ones that helped with Rome in the first place, I have no doubt would still be drinking out of his hand.”

“When you say loyal fanbase...do you mean—”

“Yes, created them. I have only turned Martin in my entire existence, I could not let him die like that,” Harry said, sharing a private smile with his adamant butler. He’d never suggested that Martin take on that roll in his life, but the cute French boy hadn’t let him refer to him as anything else. “But Auron turned hundreds. Possibly more. Alexander found out that he was the maker for so many immortals, and he was following a trail of crumbs to some big picture that we were missing, and I can only assume he got close...he died not long after confronting Auron about it.”

“Hadrian!” Louis suddenly barked, leaning back and gazing into his lover’s eyes, imploring in his own that he was desperate to disclose something.

“What? What is it?” Harry asked frantically, a familiar inkling that it wasn’t exactly the regular, _human_ Louis he was speaking to...but the one who had memories from when he was a vampire...if that's what it was. Almost at once, all recognition faded from the mismatched eyes, and Louis sagged in defeat, no doubt beating himself up over his instant forgetfulness.

“Sorry, Harry. I remembered something, but I...I just can’t...get to it, I—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” Harry soothed, speaking in a low and warm tone in case Louis would hurtle into the catatonic state he sometimes fell victim to when put under heavy stress. “If you remember, let me know. It’s probably—” He wanted to say ‘not important,’ but even he knew that was a false hope. Whatever that had been, was extremely important, but he couldn’t berate Louis for more information. He was the innocent one in this situation, after all. “—It’s okay,” he settled on instead, frowning when Louis slid off his lap and walked to the fridge.

“What could you possibly find in there?” Zayn asked, his face showing an equal combination of confusion and amusement.

Louis said nothing and opened the creaky, mustard-yellow fridge door, blindly reaching for the apple juice on the shelves and carrying it to the counter to fish out a glass to pour some into.

Once the vampires’ curiosity was sated, they turned back to stare each other down, speaking wordlessly with their gazes, each saying something along the lines of “We should all be _very very careful_.”

“Are us two safe?” Louis suddenly asked, cautiously sipping on his apple juice while he returned the container to the one spot in the fridge that wasn’t occupied by blood bags from the hospital Zayn worked night-shifts at. He still didn’t understand how the vampire got away with so much theft.

“Which two?” Zayn asked, ready to grumble over being left out if Harry and Louis were the only objects of concern.

“Niall and me,” Louis answered, looking down at his feet as he shuffled one against the dark green and brown square tiles on the kitchen floor, boring his gaze into the octagonal and kaleidoscope-type designs, wishing he could melt into their vortex and disappear from the imminent promise of danger.

“Of course Niall is safe, why would he—”

Harry shut him up with a look, hating to contradict the comfort, but they couldn’t live in dreamland with a dirty fighter like Auron. “Auron does everything in his power,” he said simply, the deeper meaning to that ringing loud and clear in the otherwise silent room. Auron Aelius is an extremely thorough and vindictive bastard. If he got a solid lead and learned the humans’ identities...

“What do we do?” Louis asked again, repeating the question because it hadn’t been concretely answered yet.

“Get Niall here tomorrow. Louis, you’re going to need to tell him everything. He’s your best friend, he needs to know that there’s a possibility...he needs to know how serious this is,” Harry instructed with a minor pause, once again backtracking from uttering an insensitive statement, but then again...do they really have the luxury of leisurely proceedings? Offense is the only battle plan they could have against Auron, but it was almost an impossibility. Auron wasn’t stronger than Harry—he never was—but it’s not himself that Harry’s worried about. It never has been.

“Harry, you have to turn him,” Zayn said bluntly, realizing that to better protect Niall, he might need to do the same thing, but the blonde might be a little harder to convince.

“He wants to wait until after he graduates,” Harry argued, standing to take the dormant Louis in his arms and pet his hair.

“He might not get that privilege,” Zayn stated firmly, daring Harry to refuse because they both knew it was the truth.

“Zayn,” Harry hissed, baring his fangs at him for added measure.

“No, Harry, it’s okay,” Louis piped, finally breaking out of his shell and patting Harry’s shoulders. “If it comes to it, I’d rather not graduate than be dead,” he said logically, crossing one arm around his body and stepping out of Harry’s arms as he anxiously bit at the skin of his cuticles. “I can have Niall here tomorrow.”

“Good. I’m gonna go home and—”

“You,” Harry interceded, pointing a sharp claw at Zayn’s standing form, freezing him in place like he had superpowers, “are staying here tonight and today,” he ordered, Zayn slowly sitting back down in resignation.

“Is it that dangerous out there right now?” Zayn asked, praying that all his fish would be okay without food for twenty-four or so hours.

“I’m not sure, I have to make some calls. I’ll do that near sunrise,” Harry sighed, giving up affection with the contemplative Louis because every time he tried to get him in an embrace, he wiggled out of it.

“I’ll figure this out, Harry. What’s in my head. I’ll get it out,” Louis said distractedly, physically drawing lines with his index finger in the air to connect the invisible dots he was configuring.

“Don’t stress yourself, Lou,” Harry sighed, going to the fridge to sate Zayn’s tangible thirst and cater to his own.

“Don’t tell me that,” Louis griped, following the vampire with his eyes as he fetched three bags from the fridge and gave two to the other immortals, keeping the last for himself. “Really?” he snapped, the Roman clearly frustrated with his antics.

“What? You’re being difficult, I didn’t want to burden you.”

“I’m not being difficult,” Louis pouted indignantly, striding up to Harry and throwing his arms around his neck. “See? _So_ cooperative,” he drawled, chuckling when Harry wrangled out of his grasp. “Now who’s being difficult?”

“We need to come up with a plan here,” Harry said sternly, making short eye contact with everyone in the room, opening the floor for discussion and hoping someone would have a helpful suggestion.

“We need to go back to the _Sharp Tongue_ ,” Zayn suggested again, holding up a hand before Harry could inevitably cut him off with sharp snaps of disagreement. “It doesn’t have to be us. Call some connects, relay the situation, and have them go scouting for clues, because as of right now, all we know is he's in Brimsville. That's not good enough. We need to know who this snitch is, or if they were even _at_ the club, _or_ if there even _is_ a snitch. What if it's a coincidence? We just don't know enough. And fuck connects, we should go. Your compulsion is stronger than anyone’s, you should have no problem getting honest answers.”

“Okay, first of all, this is no fucking coincidence,” Harry seethed, pausing afterward and giving himself some time to think. Harry hated to agree with that last statement, but it was true. Most younger vampires wouldn’t be able to break their kin down with compulsion, but Harry could have them all on their knees. Perks of being a senior citizen. It may be the only way they would get the truth, because for now, they had no leads, no clues, and no plan. They were sitting ducks until they got the upper hand of knowledge. You can’t prepare for something you’ll never be able to expect—Auron could come from any angle; they needed more intel. “We’ll have to go,” he grudgingly accepted, Zayn leaning back in satisfaction, and Louis bursting like an overly inflated balloon.

“And what if that person is there and recognizes you? What if they call their goons down on your head and you’re severely outnumbered, and poor Martin dies to defend your honour, and I’m left here with no way of knowing what happened to yo—”

“You’re coming with me,” Harry sighed, returning to his seat at the table and ignoring his bloodlust for now because partaking in any would set Louis off even higher.

“I...what? I am?” Louis asked dumbly, the hands he’d been flapping about hanging uselessly in the air.

“I can’t leave you here. If I’m leaving this house at night, you’re gonna be under my wing the whole time,” Harry said fiercely, shifting his passionate eyes to Martin. “You too,” he told the mildly surprised butler. “No one is gonna be left here. We don’t know if he already knows this location or not. The sun is safe, you can go to school tomorrow, but we’re going to the club tomorrow night. You need to bring Niall,” he said authoritatively, meeting Louis’ polar eyes.

“I’ll bring Niall,” Louis said firmly, already dreading the conversation he would need to have with the unsuspecting blonde. “You don’t need to remind me. I’m more than happy with cautious measures being taken. Ignoring that is the kind of thing that gets people killed,” he said, Harry flinching at his blunt words.

“Nobody is going to get killed,” Harry swore, appearing to say that straight to God because his head had tilted up to glare at the popcorn-style ceiling.

“Just when I thought I’d found the perfect mouse...now the secret will be out before I can capture him,” Zayn groaned, his chin resting on the mahogany table as he spilled the complaint onto its gleaming surface.

“I wouldn’t waste time worrying if I were you. That concern is almost invalid,” Louis chuckled, biting his lip and snorting from the memory of the list under Niall’s pillow. “He’s onto something, he just doesn’t know what it is yet, but—”

“Ugh, that’s even worse. I’d’ve liked to have _at least_ seen the look of earth-shattering shock on his face. The pale of his rosy cheeks. The smell of his fear perspire from his toasty skin. The quick stop of his breath as goosebumps traveled up the back of that _sweet_ , _Irish_ _neck_ —”

“Are you in heat or something?” Harry provoked with the most disgusted tone he could muster, staring the slut down with narrowed slits for eyes. “Gonna start spraying everywhere?”

“Shut up, you fossil,” Zayn barked in embarrassment, shaking himself from his downward spiral of uplifting fantasies.

“ _As I was saying_ ,” Louis growled, highly disappointment in Zayn’s creepy obsession with Niall. “I left some pretty big clues for him to find, and he was already talking about how _weird_ you three were. It’ll be a tough talk, but he’ll be here tomorrow night. I promise.”

“Weird? Even me?” Zayn asked with a desperate sparkle in his puppy-dog eyes.

“What do you _mean_?” Louis squeaked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “Es _pecially_ you.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Harry spoke up once again, effectively silencing what would otherwise have been a very heated debacle. Battles of worth were indeed entertaining, but not tonight. “I’m putting Louis to bed, we will continue this when I get back,” he announced, taking ahold of Louis’ elbow and not even blinking an eye when the human ripped it out of his grasp.

“Putting me to bed? Do I look five to you?” Louis retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting a hip out to the side. Harry’s ancient eyes pierced his with a superior fire that had Louis fidgeting in their path, reminding him of just how different they really were. “Maybe don’t answer that,” he said in a quieter voice, allowing himself to be guided out of the kitchen as their company called out lame goodbye’s.

“I can put myself to bed, you know,” Louis began, mere moments away from unleashing a long string of his personal capabilities.

“I’m not coddling you, Louis. I’m parched, you’re refreshing, and you look like you’re about to keel over anyway. You’re not missing any ‘action,’ and you have school tomorrow,” he said, a gentle hand stroking the back of Louis’ neck as they ascended the stairs, case by case.

Louis released a small sound of contentment from the back of his throat and walked into Harry’s side, that sound morphing into a full-out happy sigh when Harry’s arm snaked around him and gave him support. “I’m sorry, I just feel like I need to rush into the frontlines, and I hate sitting still while people could be conspiring against you,” he explained, halting in the hallway before they would reach the mirror room and walking back against the dark red wall.

Harry slowed to a halt and leaned against the opposite wall, both beings crossing their ankles at the same time. “That's a trait I’d expect in you, and I'm proud that you have it...but you need to take care of yourself, or you won't be any help at all,” he teased with a wink.

“What could I even do against a vampire?” Louis groaned to the floor, the daunting loom of Auron hanging over him like a storm cloud.

Harry knew he had a point. Louis’ ability to fight any immortal was painfully nonexistent, but Harry didn't want him looking so mopey. “Well you stopped _me_ in my tracks.”

Louis looked up with a small smile teasing the corners of his lips, but when their eyes met, the smile transformed into a seductive smirk.

Harry was on the same page, and suddenly the distance between them was a heinous crime.

Both lovers staring into the eyes of their future sparked an electrical surge of romantic magnetism. As one, they pushed off their walls before any more words could be said, and met in the middle with their lips first, hips second.

Louis moaned as Harry’s hands slid down from his face to his arse, pushing his pelvis against Harry as the vampire kissed down his neck. “Take me to bed, Harry. I’ll give you everything you want,” he offered breathlessly, yelping when he was immediately lifted into Harry’s arms.

Harry smirked against Louis’ neck and craned his head back to meet his suggestive eyes as he walked them down to the end of the hall, grinning when Louis’ nails gripped his shoulders in desire from the silent talk between their passionate gazes. “When are you going to realize…” Harry murmured in worship, sighing in bliss when Louis dove forward and began to uselessly—still felt good—bite at his neck, pulling at his hair as he did so. “...that you _clearly_ already do.”

 

\---

 

Louis woke up to an empty bed. Grumbling, he pushed himself up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He was familiar enough with the layout of the room that once he’d wrapped a robe around his body, he crossed the concrete floor and seamlessly rose onto the first step of the stairs, his only guide being the wall he would slap every so often to propel him further.

He noticed that he didn’t see the square of light that he would if the sun was up, but then again, if Harry wasn’t in bed, then of course it couldn’t be sunrise yet— _Thwack!_ “Aw, fuck me,” he cursed, rubbing his head that he’d just drove into the closed trapdoor. Maybe he really should have lit a candle.

He clenched a fist and punched his way out, catching the door before it came crashing back down, and emerging from the secret enclave like he’d just crawled away from battle. He heard voices billowing through the mansion and followed them down to the kitchen he’d reluctantly left last time—though he hadn't been reluctant for long, if the onslaught of sex and blood-drinking he got were anything to go by. All heads turned to him once he shuffled into the golden light of the room, but he spared them a mere wave, much more interested in the fridge that held his apple juice.

“Louis, are you alright?” Harry asked, halting the conversation to find out why his Louis wasn’t sleeping. “Did we wake you up? Are we too loud?”

“No, Harry,” Louis laughed, wrangling his juice out of the shelf and drinking it straight from the container—not much point dirtying dishes when he was the only one to drink whatever could be poured into them. “I just woke up, I don’t know. What time is it?” he asked, already looking to the grandfather clock to answer his own question.

“Nearly five,” Harry said anyway, scooting to the next chair and patting the one he’d just left, running a hand over Louis’ forehead when he sat down. “You’ve only been asleep for three hours.”

“Huh,” Louis hummed, taking another large swig of the apple juice before putting it down. “Can I go work on my music final?” he asked as he wiped his mouth, stifling a yawn and standing to stretch on his tiptoes.

“Of course you can, love,” Harry permitted, shooing him off with a cooperative wave.

Louis smiled and scurried out of the tense kitchen after returning the apple juice to the fridge, using the secret door he’d previously discovered connected to the hallway, and leaping into the music room, where he then closed the door to have the illusion of privacy.

He sat himself upon the stool and cracked his knuckles, admittedly tired enough that his eyes were drooping, but not tired enough to go back to sleep. He began like every other time with _Year Endless_ , and then tapered off into _Vie à L'Intérieur_ , letting his imagination take off as he neared the end of the second piece, but stopping short from his own insecurities.

“No, that’s shit,” he muttered, his chord ending in a flat note anyway because he had ceased to care.

 _Switch the order_ , a voice said to him.

“Switch it? Are you sure?” he replied, trying to keep his voice down because vampires had good hearing, and they didn’t need to know he was “talking to himself.”

_Yes. Switch it. Play ours, then ‘Vie à L'Intérieur,’ then ‘Year Endless.’_

“Ours, what do you mean ‘ours’? And I haven’t even written it yet!” he snapped back.

“Louis?” he heard echoed from the kitchen, a nervous sweat breaking out immediately.

“Yeah?” he called, praying that Harry would at least stay where he is.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Uhh...myself?” he said with mediocre confidence, listening to the silence and fearing the worst. _Great, he thinks you're crazy—_

“Okay,” was all Harry had to say.

Louis sighed quietly and sagged his shoulders, turning his irritation over to the mystery voice, though he hardly needs to wonder. “Alex, what did you mean ‘ours’?” he tried again, his tone barely above a whisper.

_Do as I do._

Louis was about to scoff when suddenly he had a brilliant idea, and his hands flew to the keys, creating something out of nothing and listening to it come together out of his own head. Well...shared head, maybe. “This is really good,” he said, grinning as he told the song’s tale, already knowing every part of it as though he’d grown up listening to it, but tastefully throwing in creative bits of his own.

It was a small struggle for power over what Alexander wanted to do, and what Louis wanted to do, but they eventually came to an agreement and Louis set on writing it all down in sheet music so he would have something tangible to turn in to Mr. Carey. Once it was documented, he practiced over and over, finding the right ways to mold everything together, and exactly what he wanted the tempo to be for each one. He was going to have to rewrite a lot of time signatures, but this had to be perfect.

“What do we call the first one?” he asked lowly, wiping the sweat from his brow that he’d managed to produce from his piano enthusiasm.

_Why should I know everything?_

“You—” Louis started to shout, choking on his sentence before he could finish it. His own mind was bickering with him...forgive him for having a bit of a temper. “Can’t you just—”

_‘Come back’ is the title._

“Oh, and you just decided this on your own…” And just like that, the voice was gone. All sensations of an alter presence evaporated like splashed water on pavement during a hot summer’s day. He was completely alone again, with a clear vision of his final piece, and a title to tack onto what he’d just created. Guess it was a mostly positive experience, but what the hell was going on? He’s still searching for that answer.

“Louis, what are you doing in here?” Harry asked as he opened the door, a bemused but still suspicious look on his sculpted face.

“All part of the creative process,” Louis assured, painting innocence on his face and running up to throw himself into Harry’s arms. The best defense is a good offense, right? Or is it the other way around?

“Whoa, hey,” Harry chuckled, accepting the armful of Louis and spinning him around while he shamelessly massaged his butt. “You little flea,” he crooned, nuzzling Louis’ neck and sighing in a happy, carefree manner. “I heard you playing _Vie à L'Intérieur_ in here. I knew you would be the one to finish it. It was beautiful,” he praised.

“Oh, is that how you say it? You could have done it, you know. Sometimes you just gotta let go… Where is everyone?” Louis asked, unhooking his legs to slide down Harry’s body en route to the floor.

Harry chuckled at his antics, and his blatant flippancy directed toward a piece that had for some reason haunted Harry’s nightmares for over a year. “They’re around. Martin’s probably cleaning, I told Zayn to fuck off and do whatever, but he’s gotta stay on the grounds, and that gives us the rest of the night to spend however we...wait, you have school,” he suddenly said, lifting Louis’ wrist so he could read the time. “Ah, Lou. It’s six-thirty,” he whined, both beings mildly surprised at how much time had gone by since they were all in the kitchen.

“Guess I have to get dressed then,” Louis griped, backing up because something had caught his eye and he needed the question answered. “Come here for a sec,” he said, snatching a piece of sheet music off the rack and presenting it to Harry. “What do these side notes mean?” he demanded, elated that he’d finally be able to check this mystery off the list. This was the first question he'd ever had.

Harry bent down and read the words: “Sans vie, Sans espoir, Pourquoi dois-je essaye,” snorting at his own dramatic spurts and feeling ashamed over how serious he’d been at the time. “Lifeless, Hopeless, Why do I try?” he translated, scoffing when Louis’ face fell. “Don’t worry, I’m quite alright these days.”

“I guess...and what does ‘ _Vie à L'Intérieur’_ mean?” he implored with the correct pronunciation, actually needing to know that one for when he wrote the paper about his final. Because it wasn’t enough to configure the musical part of it; a whole extensive paper about the logistics was ‘absolutely necessary.’

“Well…‘Life Within’ essentially,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders at Louis’ skeptical deadpan.

“Essentially?”

“Yeah, it’s close enough. Come, let’s get you dressed and ready for school. You’ve got a long day of Niall ahead of you,” Harry reasoned, letting Louis pack up all his academic things so he could be one step closer in his departure.

“The Gods know that’s right,” Louis sighed, following Harry out the door and depositing his bag near the front door where it usually lives.

“Gods, plural?” Harry chuckled, that odd and wistful look he sometimes had with Louis making a beautiful appearance on his face.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Louis mused, knocking his hip against Harry’s as they walked through the front room en route to the stairs.

“Yeah...I know,” Harry said vainly, busting up in laughter when Louis’ facial expression indicated he was about to take it back.

“Nice _essay_ , by the way,” Louis lilted to take him down a notch.

“Ohhh you read it!” Harry cried with glee, his overactive theatrics drawing an elongated snort from Louis’ nose.

“Oh, I read it alright. I just can't believe my history teacher did too,” he laughed, mock glaring at Harry, but still smiling as he did it. He's a terrible actor.

“What markings did it get?” Harry asked in suspense, unsure of whether it would be positive or vehemently negative.

“A stark, mediocre _C+_ ,” Louis informed, giggling at Harry's offended expression. “Hey, it could be worse.”

“I think it deserves a _bit_ more than _that_ ,” Harry grumbled petulantly, his writing eloquence having never failed to impress before.

“Are you crazy? We're lucky it didn't fail completely!” Louis said incredulously, giving Harry a light shove as they quickly arrived at the fourth floor.

“So…should I write that—”

“No, Harry. You should not write that apology letter. I think you've done quite enough,” Louis said condescendingly, patting Harry's shoulder when he scoffed in response.

“Fine then,” Harry said breezily, interlocking his fingers behind his head as they neared the mirror room, stealing sidelong glances at the bemused Louis. “If he cannot see my talent, then Mr. Chilton isn't worth my apology anyway.”

They bantered their way across the mirror room and down the spiral staircase, Harry guiding the way through its darkness and lighting some candles when they arrived in the bedroom so Louis could locate his clothing.

“Hey, can I wear this?” Louis asked, pinching one of Harry’s shirts and raising it up, revealing it to be his _The Rolling Stones_ t-shirt that Zayn had gifted to him for his birthday.

“You want to wear that shirt?” Harry asked with a chuckle at Louis’ desperately hopeful face.

“I want a piece of you with me today,” Louis explained, already putting his arms into the garment so he could shove it over his top half.

“I would give you my pants, but they’d just drag on the ground,” Harry teased, dusting Louis’ shoulders off and admiring his shirt that was too big for Louis’ tiny frame. “Your arms are swimming in this. I love it,” he praised, taking him into his embrace and resting his chin on Louis’ fluffy hair.

“Don’t think I’ll forget your comment about my height,” Louis grumbled, not actually caring one bit about the diss.

“Oh, of course not,” Harry said lightly, giving Louis a quick kiss on the head and a butt grab. “Now, head off to the curb. I wish I could carry you there, but the sun’s on its way up. I really don’t want to slide all the way back down the hill on my stomach like a slug,” he said, letting a noisy yawn out and kneeling to tie Louis’ right shoe’s laces once the human had sat on the bed to tackle his left.

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Louis agreed, wiggling his toes when both shoes were tied and standing for one last hug.

Harry grinned and straightened up, squeezing his human like a boa constrictor and whispering into his ear, “Please be careful.”

“I thought I was safe in the sunlight?” Louis challenged without confidence.

“Yeah, you are, just...just get home fast, okay?” Harry pressed, his eyebrows furrowing over Louis’ shoulder with concern. He smoothed them out when he pulled back to look at his love, almost melting under the playful expression of his human.

“Don’t gotta tell _me_ twice,” Louis said brightly, smacking their lips together and making his departure from the basement. He was most definitely going to make Niall wait outside for a stupid amount of time if he procrastinated leaving any longer.

Harry sighed pleasantly and crashed down on his bed, waving at Louis when he turned back to make eye contact as he climbed the first few steps. “I love you,” he said sweetly, pulling the comforter up his body and fluffing his pillow up in preparation of the slumber he’d soon fall into.

“Love you too,” Louis said after he turned the corner, knowing that he could have responded when he got to the kitchen, and Harry still would have heard him. He thankfully didn’t smash his head into the trapdoor this time—that square of light really was helpful—and squinted his eyes at the early rays of the sun that had evidently just broken over the horizon. Good thing Harry went underground when he did.

He skipped down to the second floor, two seconds from descending the last staircase when the door of the guest room he’d initially been invited to stay in creaked open and a tired looking Zayn peeked the side of his face out. “Louis,” he croaked, Louis shuffling over immediately.

“What are you doing, the sun is…” His question fizzled out when he noticed the room was still pitch black. He strained his eyes to see how, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“Tapestry upon tapestry upon tapestry,” Zayn explained to the obvious question, vaguely pointing in the direction where Louis knew the only window was located, and slinking further back into the darkness now that the human was closer.

“What’s up?” Louis asked politely, in a bit of a rush, but apparently this was important.

“Keep Niall safe, Louis. Bring him here,” Zayn begged, his mind having gone wild with fear after Harry had confirmed that Auron wouldn’t be above killing friends of his brother’s.   

“Zayn, I promise. I’ll bring him here. And no offense, ‘cuz I think it’s really sweet, but why do you care so deeply for him? You just met him,” Louis reasoned, his eyes widening when Zayn looked at him like he was stupid.

“Because my sights are set. I want him, he's mine. I claimed him,” he said obviously, considering the conversation over now that he’d pled his case. “I’m gonna sleep now,” he said groggily, slowly closing the door in Louis’ face. “See ya later.”

Louis just stared at the closed door with an unanswered question lying behind it. Whatever. As long as Zayn had good intentions and wanted a loving relationship with Niall, Louis would support it completely. Niall was obviously smitten, so clearly they had a future together. It just sucked that they were all in danger now. It’s always something, right?

He finally got out the door and walked with a quickened pace to the curb, heaving as he climbed the formidable hill and cursing himself when he heard Niall’s idle engine in the near distance. So he had made him wait, after all. His first view of level ground revealed the white gleam of Niall’s truck in the sun, and when he finally reached the curb, the blonde looked over and met his eyes, the most anxious, accusatory, and suspicious expression the world has ever seen on his face.

This was going to be an interesting conversation.


	2. Niall's Blown World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Louis' final~  
> Come Back = Mother's Journey by Yann Tiersen. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8LJ8q_Bx4U&index=1 )  
> Vie à L'Intérieur = La Valse d'Amelie by Yann Tiersen ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO209GwYCr8 )  
> Year Endless = Rue des Cascades by, you guessed it, Yann Tiersen ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6d014TiU7g )  
> That Year Endless is a MUCH different cover than his last ones, you need to watch THIS one to understand the writing of it. If I even fucking translated it legibly.  
> I may or may not have a huge boner for Yann Tiersen if you couldn't tell...I highly recommend watching the movie 'Amelie' if you haven't, it's pure gold. That is all.

Louis said absolutely nothing as he opened the truck door, simply hoisting himself in and staring Niall down as he closed it behind him.

Niall seemed just as speechless, but that facial expression indicated an explosion was imminent. Lo and behold, he wretched two items from his lap and presented them accusingly to Louis’ guilty self. It was the list they'd created... _and_ _Harry’s essay_.

“What the fuck is this?” Niall gritted, demanding a well earned explanation.

“I really didn't mean to leave Harry's essay behind,” Louis said first, paving the way step by step. The blonde was not ready for the bomb yet.

“Harry’s?” Niall asked, caught off guard as he fiddled with the envelope in his lap. “Who is Hadrian?” he asked, having already had his suspicions about the similarities.

“They're the same,” Louis confirmed, studying Niall’s profile like a detective, documenting every hint of reaction.

Niall had a lot he wanted to say, but one word took precedence, and he managed to whisper out a hoarse, “How?”

“Just drive,” Louis instructed, gesturing to the road ahead of them. “We've got a lot to talk about today, but if we let it stop our schedule, we'll never leave this spot,” he said reasonably, a silent challenge being duked out between their eye contact.

Niall dramatically sighed and forced his truck into first gear, sluggishly turning the wheel as he began the ride to Quartz street so they could reach the main roadway. “Are you seriously saying...that Harry... _your boyfriend_...has been around since 76 a.d.?” he asked firmly, stealing glances at Louis every few seconds.

Louis was impressed. Just how many times did Niall read that essay? “Yes,” he said simply, lacking the privilege of taking this slow.

“ _How_? _How_ is that possible?” Niall begged, trying to coerce his mind to wrap around the preposterous concept.

Louis looked behind them before answering, noticing that someone was pretty close behind them, and that it could be a pretty bad thing. “You better pull over for this,” he warned, his eyes trained on the following car’s distance.

“Just tell me,” Niall groaned, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“... They're vampires.”

“WHAT?!” Niall screeched, slamming on his brakes and propelling Louis into the dashboard.

The car behind them squealed to a stop and laid on the horn honking to the nth degree. Louis grunted and turned around in his seat, giving the unsuspecting driver a grimace of apology and a small wave. He then shot his arm forward and pointed at the road. “ _Drive_ ,” he emphasized, Niall snapping out of his stupor and creeping along like nothing had happened.

“You...cannot...be serious,” Niall panted, his rapid heartbeat consequently affecting his breath. Is this a panic attack?

“Believe me, I am,” Louis said bluntly, reaching over to rub at Niall’s tensed shoulder.

“All three of them?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“Are they dangerous?” Niall whimpered, imploring with his eyes that he hoped they weren't.

“Really?” Louis asked in disbelief, shaking his head and sighing. “What do you think? Yes, they're extremely dangerous, but not to you and I. We're safe,” he promised.

“Okay, back up. I need proof of all this,” Niall sighed, unable to commit the claim to truth until his eyes had beheld the... _vampires_...in their natural habitat.

“You'll get it tonight at the mansion,” Louis assured, impatient to see that recognition and comprehension cross Niall’s features when it was proven.

“Tonight? No, no I need some _time_ ,” Niall argued, considering a little hesitation to be completely understandable.

“No, Niall, you have to do this. There's something else I haven't told you…” he said sadly—this is where it would get hard to talk about.

“There's more?” Niall whined, urging Louis to spill the beans.

Louis bit the bullet and dove into Harry’s twin brother Auron, and the kind of vampire he is, emphasizing that they would all be in danger if he found their location. He spoke of the plan to go to the club tonight, and what could possibly happen there, but that if everyone wasted the opportunity to strike first, they would be fish in a bowl waiting for the inevitable.

Niall had taken that information as you'd expect, with gasps and groans in all the right places, and he was speechless for a while after Louis had finished.

Louis let him think it over, because it was a lot to take in all at once, but this was something Niall couldn't refuse, and the blonde was starting to grasp that.

“So he's for sure after us?” Niall asked to break the silence, making the last turn needed to reach the school parking lot.

“Probably more so Harry and I. But maybe you if he had to get to me. I mean it's not set in stone, but you're not completely safe either,” Louis said, hopping up and down when Niall passed over the first speed bump after pulling into the lot.

“I cannot believe you are telling me that my love interest is a vampire, and that I'm in mortal peril for an unrelated reason, because it's not even _him_ I should be worrying about,” Niall chuckled, rolling into the first spot that was open and running his hands over his face.

“I know it's a lot, but you have to internalize this immediately. I promised Zayn I'd get you there tonight, he was frantic over it. He's really worried about you,” Louis said casually, using every dirty trick in the book to amp Niall’s cooperation.

“H-he is?” Niall stammered as he killed the engine, holding the keys in a tight fist, a dark blush colouring his face like a tomato.

“Yes, of course he is. He really likes you,” he stressed, the total honesty in his voice translating beautifully.

Niall thought it over and tried to control the giggles he wanted to emit, and Louis just stared. Neither of them were making any moves to get to class, and they were already two minutes late. Apparently their fucks-to-give-cup was empty.

“.... _Louis_ …” Niall suddenly slurred at the slowest speed he could utilize, amusing and concerning his best friend in equal amounts.

“Yes?” Louis asked cautiously, preparing himself for whatever Niall would drop next.

“Does Harry…” he trailed, his hand subconsciously traveling up to his neck.

Louis watched the action and let himself relax—he'd definitely seen this one coming. “Drink my blood?” he finished for him, rightfully assuming that the embarrassed and terrified Niall wouldn't have done it himself.

Niall just nodded, unable to meet Louis’ eyes, but making everything easier on the both of them because of it.

“All the time,” Louis said dreamily, needing Niall to understand from the get-go that it was an amazing experience. “We're both addicted to the process,” he added, pointedly and obviously suppressing a moan to increase Niall’s curiosity.

“Addicted? _You_ are?” Niall asked in interest, finally looking over and forgetting his initial fear.

 _Jackpot_. “Hard not to be. Ever had an orgasm?” he asked seriously, already knowing the answer to such a stupid question.

Niall deadpanned. “What kinda ques—yes, of course I have,” he settled on, playing along with Louis’ odd style of communication.

“How long are they?”

“Like...three to five seconds or something, why?” Niall asked, pursing his lips in confusion. Louis’ subsequent smirk sent chills down Niall’s spine, but it excited him in more ways than one. What is he getting at?

“How would you like it if they lasted _thirty_ seconds? _Forty five_? A _full minute long_?” he purred, the memory of that sensation threatening to rip reality from right under his seat.

“That's a lot of come,” Niall gulped, a sweat breaking out on his skin.

“Not come. Just the feeling,” Louis specified.

That kind of concept would make Niall’s dreams come true, but was Louis actually implying that… “That's possible?” he asked with wide eyes and a slight shiver. Everyone loves orgasms, he's not being weird.

“With a vampire bite it is,” Louis said melodically, giving Niall an impish wink.

“How?” Niall asked for the thousandth time—that really was his word of the day.

“Not sure. Their saliva is just overflowing with endorphins. When it comes in contact with bite marks...gravity takes a backseat,” he sighed, alluding to the minute-long orgasm that was under discussion.

“But what if he ever loses control and kills you?” Niall asked, resisting the temptation to stay on that pleasant and arousing topic.

Louis scoffed, but he knew Niall was only expressing true concern. How could he know any better? “Harry will never kill me,” he said confidently, rolling his head to the side so he could speak directly into Niall’s swimming eyes.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he loves me. Simple as that. They don't lose their minds or anything when they drink, they're fully aware of their surroundings. It gets really passionate, which you _can_ get lost in, but they are completely in tune with the body they're taking from, and they would sense any danger right away,” Louis explained, getting more technical than he'd set out for, but an educational vampire lesson had its benefits.

“Hang on, why isn't your neck scarred?” Niall asked logically, after his eyes had drifted down to find evidence and had frustratingly come up blank.

“Ohhh, it is,” Louis negated fondly, flipping the overhead visor down to reveal its built-in mirror and gazing in longing at his physically engraved myriad of Harry’s ownership.

“Uhh...where?” Niall asked when Louis felt around at blank flesh like he was seeing something he couldn't. Wait...don't tell him…

“They're invisible.”

“Dammit!” Niall cursed, pissed at himself for being right. “Of course they fucking are.”

“Only immortals and/or those bitten by them can see these on other people,” he explained apologetically, looking forward to when Niall could suddenly see them.

“This is ridiculous,” Niall huffed.

“It is.”

“So _why_ do I _know_ it's true?” Niall groaned, his head falling back against the headrest in defeat.

“Because you know me,” Louis replied easily, gathering his backpack and slipping his arms through the straps. “I'm eccentric and weird, but not enough of either to come up with this and drop it on your plate if it wasn't true. I wouldn't lie about something so serious.”

“What do I have to do?” Niall asked in confusion, wracking his mind for all the things he could do in his position. “Shit, what do I tell my ‘rents?”

“One night away shouldn't be a problem to start with. Tell them you're at my pad to work on a project. You need to get to know Zayn exactly how he is. It’ll be more jarring than you think, but you have to do it, and I know you can,” he said encouragingly, smiling at Niall like he hadn't just flipped his world upside-down.

“How did _you_ find out?” Niall asked, reluctantly opening his door and sliding out of the truck to actually _attend_ school. They were frightfully late already.

“I'll tell you that at lunch,” Louis laughed, overflowing with information that was impossible to lay down in one sitting.

“The fuck were you two doing in there?” Troy asked behind them, making the hair on their arms stand up, but causing no fear or anxiety.

“Not. Today,” both Louis and Niall said simultaneously, not sparing the bully a glance as they swept across the parking lot.

“Aw, what? Were you _kissing_?” he lilted.

“What are you even doing out here?” Louis sighed, still not giving Troy the satisfaction of a look.

“I do what I want,” he said defensively, and Louis could almost hear his chest puffing out. “You should be careful how you talk to me, you know. Otherwise I might—”

“NOT TODAY!” both boys once again snapped at the same time, actually startling Troy and stopping the threat in its stupid tracks. _Not fucking today._

 

\---

 

Louis lumbered through his first set of classes, turning in assignment here, writing lecture notes there, keeping himself in a dormant style of autopilot so he could get everything done efficiently.

It wasn’t long until his hard work paid off and he could sprint to the cafeteria like his ass was on fire, anxious to speak more with Niall about what the blonde was surely stressing himself over.

He bypassed the roadblock wave of students like he had the ability to walk through walls, expertly weaving and dodging between them, all their cries of “Watch it!” falling on deaf ears.

He finally made it to his lifesaver at their bench and approached more slowly than he’d done to get here, realizing this situation may need to be treated with the utmost amount of caution and patience.

“There you are, what are you standing there like an idiot for? Come here, I have questions,” Niall said frantically, blowing Louis’ expectations out of the water. Though, maybe Louis should have figured that Niall would take it better than anyone in the world.

“What do you _vaguely_ wanna know?” Louis asked quietly, his shifty eyes indicating they needed to stay aware of the words coming from their mouths whilst surrounded by so many teenagers. Any of them could be listening.

Niall understood completely and leaned in, depositing Louis’ portion of his lunch in a pile to the side and pushing it forward until Louis scooped it all into his arms. “Okay, well...I guess what I want to know first is how old Zayn is,” he said, ripping the top off one of his applesauce cups and licking it like it wasn’t applesauce...if you catch the drift.

Louis wracked his brain to remember his first meeting with Zayn when he'd said it so proudly. He knew it was a former president’s birth year, but he couldn’t remember which. Then he remembered it was Abraham Lincoln, but that didn’t help in the year department. “It was the 1800’s, that I’m sure of…” he trailed, standing onto the bench and bellowing out the open-ended question that _some_ nerd would answer. “ _What year was Abraham Lincoln born_?” he roared, a few kids laughing at the unexpected distraction, but a few flapping their hands like Louis was the teacher who was supposed to pick on them. He pointed to one with similar glasses to Mr. Carey’s, and the kid screeched, “1809!” so Louis thanked the room and plopped back down in his seat.

“Zayn was born in 1809,” he told Niall needlessly.

“I...thank you,” Niall chuckled, a long and miffed sigh tumbling into his applesauce at Louis’ antics.

“What else do you wanna know? We gotta do this snappy, we’re not gonna have more time until school’s out.”

“Hmm…” Niall pondered, all the mental questions he’d prepared gone without a trace. Maybe he needed everything written down again.

“Remember that they’re gonna answer a lot of your questions and explain a lot themselves. You’ll also learn a lot along the way just by watching them. Ask me the things you’d be embarrassed to ask them yourself,” Louis said helpfully, narrowing shit down from the width of a hippo, to the width of a pencil.

“Okay, why don’t they age?”

“Jeez, going right for the existential, are we?” Louis giggled, clapping his hands together and trying to figure out how to put this lightly...which there was no way to do. “They’re dead.”

“Dead? Like _dead_ dead?” Niall gasped in fascination, a tiny undertone of fear, but the former was drowning it out.

“Like undead. Like living death. Blood gives them life, but they don’t need it,” Louis explained, his voice barely above a whisper because this was the really graphic and exposing shit.

Niall continued to ask his questions in a rushed manner, covering the sunlight, garlic, coffins, all the stupid shit that Louis had asked Harry on that first night together. They flew down the bullet points at light speed, Louis filling in whatever he deemed important and shameful to ask to the immortals themselves, like the state of their boners...although...Zayn would probably have no problem talking about that. Which made it even better that Louis addressed it instead.

Eventually the shrill tones of the bell made both of their hearts skip a beat, and they walked out of the cafeteria together, Louis mentioning last second that Niall needed to come to Mr. Carey’s room after school because he had something to do that may take a bit. Niall agreed, and then they were off to their respective wings, each dreading the next class with as much fiery passion as the other.

 

\---

 

Fifth period had crept by like a sloth, but finally Louis was granted the privilege to impatiently stare at the minute arm of the clock above the blackboard because it would ring any second now, trying his hardest to simultaneously listen to Mr. Simon’s instructions for what problem through which would serve as the home assignment—but alas, the bell rung before Louis could internalize it, and he gave up. Fuck chemistry. He’d ask Niall later; they both had that same class, just in different periods.

He tripped over his shoelaces when he took one step out of his desk, and dropped his foot onto the chair, ignoring the lower back pain he for some reason had—probably from getting almost no sleep at all—and pretending not to notice when Troy walked into the room because it was his class next. The kid walked all the way up to Louis’ desk and just stood there like a statue, enraging and annoying Louis who was _just_ trying to tie his damned, vindictive, problem-causing laces.

“What do you want, Troy?” Louis sighed, switching feet to tackle the other one. How the fuck does this keep happening? Adidas needs to get their shit together.

“You’re in my seat,” Troy quipped.

Louis bit his lips and kept his taunting response at bay. What he _wanted_ to say was “Wow, are you really that in love with me?” but he didn’t think that was a very intelligent idea. Especially because the professor had walked out for a bathroom break—or a weed smoking break, honestly with him, it was up in the air—leaving them completely alone. So instead, he simply said, “Sorry,” and swiped his bag off the surface, finally able to retreat now that his laces had been wrangled into submission. For now…

“That’s it?” Troy asked, generally surprised that he wouldn’t get the reaction he lived for. “No ‘this seat belongs to no one, Troy. It’s school property’?” he suggested, much preferring Louis’ snark and attitude to the uninterested and apathetic boredom in his recent demeanor.

Louis just looked at him like he’d spoken another language and turned on his heel to leave, getting stopped by the bully before he could open the door because why not? “Troy—”

“What’s gotten into you?” Troy demanded, his gaze darting back and forth between Louis’ blue eye and his brown.

Other students were en route to the classroom from the hallways, and Louis knew he only had precious moments to do this, so he made them count. He grabbed Troy under his chin and pressed their bodies together, using his other hand to capture the side of his shell-shocked face in a strong hold, pulling at some of his brown, heavily styled hair while he was at it. This confidence _had_ to be coming from Alexander. “Because I’m done giving you the satisfaction. You want me in your life, I know you want me in every way I can be had, but you don’t deserve me at all. You disgust me,” he hissed, shoving him away and praising the Gods that he was too startled to react yet. “By the way,” he added, moving back to the doorway and turning just once to stare him down, likely with a storm in his eyes. “Your boner didn’t feel all that big anyway,” he said savagely, flipping his hair and leaving the room before any spell could break.

Once out, he ran like hell to his next class, aware that Troy may appear behind him, but he didn’t, and Louis crash-landed into the music room like he’d been on fire and the music room had doused him in water, extinguishing the flame.

“Oh my!” Mr. Carey exclaimed, his knobby knees knocking together as he lifted a limp wrist in the air and touched the other hand to his cheek.

“You better change that stance,” Louis warned before any of the other students arrived, both males straightening up and repairing their outer hetero shells so they wouldn’t set the class’s gaydar off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.  

Mr. Carey shot him a wink and walked to his desk, the missing students beginning to file in one by one, but Louis had something to schedule before he took his seat. He jogged over to the desk and kept his voice low, for no other reason than the previous slip up had left them both feeling vulnerable and insecure about their behavior. “Hey, do you have your side job today?” he asked, crossing his fingers down by his thighs.

“Yeah, I do,” Mr. Carey replied, a bit curious as to why the question was being asked.

_Damn._

“But it’s an hour later than usual.”

 _Not damn._ “Can I spare some of your time after class? Got something on the piano to show you.”

“Of course,” Mr. Carey nodded, shooing Louis away when the final bell rang, and jumping into a music sheet challenge, which is a game the class sometimes played in which one student would play a short tune after announcing the first note, and the class had to try and follow the rest while transcribing it onto sheet music.

The class ended up playing that for longer than Mr. Carey had intended, but both the teacher and the students loved it so much that nobody had even noticed. He scrambled around for his assignment to hand out for them to work on.

Louis slid the paper closer after it had been dropped on his desk and figured out pretty quickly what it was. It was half of a song on sheet music that you were to finish and complete. It was the same first half of a song for each student, but everyone’s interpretations would be completely different and they would perform it one by one over the next few days.

Louis hardly thought he needed more on his plate at the moment, but he had confidence he could finish it by the end of the class, instrument to practice on or not. Some other pianist had taken his spot, because unfortunately he wasn’t the only one in the world.

He scribbled and doodled on his finished page until the bell rang, his stomach twisting when he remembered what he was about to do. He put all his things into his backpack, save for his sheet notebook, and approached the piano stool, laying out the order for his final and waiting until everyone was gone.

When they were alone, he cleared his throat and Mr. Carey crept over to the piano, an excited look on his face.

“What is this?” the teacher asked, sliding his ridiculous spectacles off his face and wiping their lenses with his forest green scarf and then putting them back on, the size of his eyes doubling as he did so.

“I wanted to play you my final,” Louis explained, gesturing to the notebook and flipping through it to showcase three separate pieces.

“Why so early?” Mr. Carey asked, his eyebrows raising and furrowing in confusion, giving him an amusing expression to behold. “The final isn’t due ‘til the first of June.”

“I know,” Louis said quickly, sighing and readying his fingers on the keys because Mr. Carey would never end up refusing a chance to listen to his playing, and he knew that. “Just...if anything happens to me, I want you to have heard it,” he said, a slight waver lingering in the shadows of his voice.

“Louis!” Mr. Carey wailed, dropping to his knees beside the seat and grabbing his pupil’s shoulder to get his attention. “Are you okay? What’s going on? What do you mean? What’s going to happen to you?” he asked in quick succession, knowing that Louis wouldn’t say something so serious if there wasn’t a substantial cause for concern.

“I don’t think anything will, but it could. I’m okay for now, please don’t worry just...just let me do this,” he said with an air of finality, like he’d smacked the gavel down on the instrument and silenced the courtroom.

Mr. Carey definitely wanted more interrogation, but he couldn’t _not_ let Louis have this. He’d clearly wanted to, from the very beginning of class, so it would be an insult to hold him back any further...but no way in hell was he giving up the questioning. Just subsiding it. “Okay, Louis. Show me.”

Louis’ relief was tangible, and it only charged the situation with more worry, but before either could think too hard about it, the first notes of _Come Back_ had been played, and soon he lost himself completely, surrendering to the music and letting it carry his fingers across the ivory and ebony stress buttons.

 _Come Back_ was haunting to listen to, and even more haunting to play, because Louis now understood why Alexander had given it that title. The melody scaled up and down the keys in this repetitively cycled way that made you feel as though you were reaching out for something only to get pushed back every time you tried. It felt like watching a taffy machine bend and stretch the aerated, boiled sugar around and around; felt like a pulley system, contraptions that move parallel but never touch; like a newton’s cradle wherein the two outer balls were the ones that wanted to touch, but could only expel each other while smashing into everything in-between them.

Maybe Louis’ getting a bit carried away, but he is a musician, and the music speaks to him in a language that regular people don’t quite grasp. People can be moved by music, but can they talk to it? Does it reply to them?

 _Come Back_ was finished rather quickly, because he’d only written a minute or so of content, but it was a fine time to switch to _Vie à L'Intérieur_ before he started listing off more comparisons of what listening to the first one sounded like. He’d poured such an insane amount of love and affection into this private performance already that he felt he may come out of it with a broken heart, but he held strong, his small hands defying the odds to get those enormous base scales.

Somewhere deep within the back of his mind, he admitted that none of these songs necessarily flowed together very well, and their themes were monstrously wide apart, but he didn’t care. And at the end of the day, he knew Mr. Carey wouldn’t either. He reached the crescendo of _Vie à L'Intérieur_ and daringly closed his eyes, finding his muscle memory could be trusted as he let his mind wander. The words scrawled in French on the original writing of this previously unfinished piece had been ‘Hopeless; Lifeless; Why do I try?’

After everything that had happened to him over the course of multiple millennia, those side notes were exceptionally easy to address. First off, hope isn’t something you ever lose forever. No matter your strife, hope will always find a way to blast through your struggles, even if it seems illogical and fanatical.

Secondly, life may be something that vampires have lost, but there are people all around them who are willing to give it back, even if most of them are delirious fang whores who just want the bite. They’ll always find someone who cares about their life and wants to shower them with their own to share a heartbeat and bond in the most romantic way fathomable.

And why does Harry try? That was the simplest answer yet; he tried because he cared. He tried to live up to expectations and positive morals that were set on him by someone who loved him, whom he loved just as much in return, so he could make them proud from the afterlife. He kept going because he knew that’s what Alexander and Louis would have wanted for him, and he did a _damn_ good job.  

 _Vie à L'Intérieur_ came to its close and paved the way for Louis’ personal favourite, _Year Endless_. This piece turned out different every single time he did it, and this instance was no different. He started with precise key smashing with his left hand, setting the premise and scene for what would follow. He quieted the chord and slowed its repetition, gracefully lifting his right hand to prepare for a slow introduction to the usually blazingly-paced song.

The initial tempo was different this time, and the way the notes were strung together was fresh and new, but the notes themselves were the same pitch and same feel, and he let himself play around before really getting into it, and when he finally did…

He shocked himself with how fast he was playing the iconic beginning, his fingers almost cramping from the speed he’d chosen to tackle it with. Had he any sense, he wouldn’t have done it, and he let himself slow way down the first opportunity he got, taking huge breaths as he fiddled around for a middle section cool down. He pressed keys here and there in a soft volume, adding personal flourishes to the already unique melody, and whatever else he damn well saw fit at the time.

It was time to speed things back up again, and he did it with a hunched spine, leaning forward into the piano and shooting back up like a jack-in-the-box, constantly moving his upper body when his playing called for it—that part is hard to explain. You _feel_ it.

Another slow, cutesy part arrived, and he gleefully played into it, adoring the little sounds he was making and trying hard to document this version of interpretation, because this one deserved to be remembered the most. The pace once again swept him off his feet, and the notes got louder and louder, his entire body going into hitting the keys so hard it hurt his fingertips.

He found a good spot to bring everything together, and he replayed the beginning introduction he’d used, once in a middle octave, repeated on the next one up, and then one more time in the original; yet, instead of flowing into the second part like he almost wanted to for the fuck of it, he smashed a set of gradually heightening chords onto the instrument instead, violently raising in pitch and volume until he reached the sweet spot, letting himself go back once more and murder the very last chord.

He let the tones fade without removing his foot from the sustain pedal, wiping his face with the collar of his shirt and jumping out of his skin when two identical applauses came from the room. He whipped around on the bench and found Mr. Carey and Niall—who knows when he must have shown up—jumping up and down in joy, and Louis took a dramatic bow in their honour.

“That was marvelous!” Mr. Carey bawled, Niall running over and hanging onto Louis as though he was the tree branch, and Niall was the sloth.

Louis giggled at both of them and made his eye contact with Mr. Carey, the one whom this performance had been intended for. The professor wiped the tears from his eyes and walked to his folders, pulling out the final gradings that he wouldn’t need until June and writing a preemptive _A+_ next to Louis’ name.

Louis peered over the desk dragging Niall behind him and beamed at the paper, some piece of his background worries obliterating itself and leaving room for sunshine. Funny he should mention sunshine, though...that won’t always be a comfort.

“Now no matter what happens, this final has an _A_ ,” Mr. Carey said quietly, very much wishing he could say that nothing would happen, but for some reason, Louis’ reaction was all he could have asked for. He’d grill him on it later.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, finally addressing the still whining Niall at his hip. “Would you get up, ya big goof? We’ve got a long fucking night ahead of us.”

Niall furrowed his eyebrows for a tenth of a nanosecond before everything in real life came crashing down on top of him, and he stood up like a soldier in line for formation. “That we do.”

They both gathered their bags while Mr. Carey said he’d stay behind for a while, waving at him as they left the room and made the journey to the parking lot, where they’d both tag-team and kill Troy if he even _tried_ to stop them today.

“You ready for this? My dear Niall?” Louis sighed, hooking an arm through his elbow and listening to the nervous gulp of a reaction.

“... No. Will I _ever_ be ready for those three?”

Louis smirked as a barrage of thoughts and examples to the contrary poured into his mind, clasping Niall’s hand and intertwining their fingers as he trained his gaze to the sky, scrunching his nose and giving a quick shake of his head. “... No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What else can I say here? Other than chapter three is going to be insane haha. It'll be out soon, sorry for the wait. I'm writing 11 as we speak, and though road to recollection was 14, Iiiiii think this sequel will reach into the high 20's. We'll see. I wrote the first book's chapters long as shit, that's why that happened.  
> Fun Fact: In this sequel, Martin gets his love interest ;)


	3. See You Soon, Lexy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shititititititititit. Ya boi couldn't help it. So here I am, giving you a normal JACKSON-SIZED CHAPTER. I'm damning myself and you fair folk by uploading this shit too fast, but heh. I don't know man, I cannot help myself right now.  
> Note: I hope you've been pronouncing Auron correctly. It's Orrrren. Rhymes with "Lauren." I say this because I recently had a friend say "Ow-ron" and that is incorrect. It is not "ow-ron" it is "Orren"  
> Auron. Get it got it guuuuud.

Niall and Louis had driven up the dirt path to the mansion gate instead of the street that led to the curb for safety reasons—even if made no sense because they were in broad daylight—and crept up the steep hill past the gate to park on the eastern flank of the mansion. Louis knew that Zayn parked here when he came, if going by the black Camaro SS they pulled up next to, and Louis figured he was privileged enough to do it by now as well.

Louis took a chanced peek in the glovebox and a victorious chirp blasted out of his mouth, pulling out a heavy, silver metal flashlight and holding it up for Niall to see. “Can I borrow this?” he asked, Niall’s blank mind portraying on his face pretty bluntly.

“... Yes?” he replied tentatively, realizing he shouldn’t even need to ask why Louis did crazy shit. It was always explained.

They hopped out as one, and Louis could practically feel Niall’s anxiety vibrating against the ground in the soles of his shoes. “Niall, it’s okay,” he tried to soothe, walking around the front of the truck and dodging the hot fumes that were still excreting from under the hood.

“It’s not, but here goes nothing,” Niall huffed courageously, stepping toward the concrete stairs before Louis could close the distance and coddle him like a child who was whining about a bad dream. He had to do this...he wanted to do this.

Louis nodded and swept past him, hopping up the steps and shuffling his feet on the nonexistent doormat, wrapping his fingers around the coarse door handle and pressing his thumb down on the latch to swing it open. Its hinges gave an irritated creak at the entry, but utter silence took its place after they’d both stepped inside and shut it behind them.

“So what do we—”

“I have something I wanna show you,” Louis said, setting his backpack down and kicking off his trusty—not at all—Adidas Americanas, motioning for Niall to break out of his frozen state and do the same.

Once both boys had straightened, Louis reached out and took the blonde’s hand, tightly holding the flashlight in the other, and led him to the staircase to ascend it step by slow-ass step. He pulled Niall just a few more paces across the second floor before stopping at the first door on the left, turning around to face him and running a hand through his hair.

“What?” Niall asked, not liking his best friend’s hesitation one bit.

“What I’m about to show you...is gonna shock the shit out of you. But do you remember how I told you that they were dead?” Louis asked carefully, preparing the flashing to flick it on once they’d entered the guest room. This was indeed a pretty disrespectful invasion of privacy, but Niall needed to break this into his system, and Louis knows it’ll tickle Zayn’s fancy to find out two humans had been gazing at him as he slept.  

“Can we spare the prologue?” Niall said bravely, preferring to rip whatever this was off like a Band-Aid as opposed to being gently guided through it like a trauma patient.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Louis responded, fisting Niall’s collar and dragging him into the room as he opened the door, shoving both of them through it, and slamming it shut to keep the room in darkness.

“The _fuck_ ,” Niall miffed in a hoarse whisper, rubbing his collarbones that Louis had accidentally or otherwise punched when he’d pushed him further into the room.

“Sunlight,” was Louis’ immediate and loudly spoken explanation. He flicked the switch of the flashlight forward when he finally found it, bathing their forms in an eerie glow that is usually only present for ghost-story-telling, but this impossible story was very much the real kind.

“What is this—” Niall would have said “place,” but when Louis shone the beam onto the sleeping form of Zayn in his bed, Niall jumped three feet in the air. “What the fuck, Louis?” he hissed, ready to bolt the moment Zayn began to wake. “We’re gonna wake him up if we—”

“ZAYN!” Louis bellowed, Niall flinching at the sound and staring at him like he was clinically bonkers.

“ _Louis_.”

“No. Niall, look. You can’t wake him,” he said, strutting over to the bed and taking a seat on the unforgiving mattress. Thank the Gods that Harry and him had made their romantic move when they did, Louis couldn’t have withstood that discomfort forever. “Come here,” he instructed, Niall becoming convinced that if that yell didn’t wake Zayn, it was probably true that nothing would.

He walked over to the bed and Louis directed the flashlight at the vampire once again, Niall taking in the pale features that he’d seen that first time, and the utter lack of life coming out of him. “Is he breathing?” he asked in guarded confusion, narrowing his eyes and watching Zayn’s chest like a hawk.

“Gods, this is familiar,” Louis muttered in amusement, letting Niall do detective work of his own.

Niall sat down on the bed and dropped his head onto Zayn’s chest, pushing his ear against where the heart should be and listening for what one would expect to hear. He switched to his other ear and tried again, realizing that he also felt no breath from Zayn’s nostrils, and the chest was stationary and barren. “He’s dead…”

“Until he drinks, yeah,” Louis confirmed casually, as though he and Niall were discussing the weather over a cup of tea.

“Holy—how are you so calm about this?” Niall squeaked, bending down to check just one more time. He then put his fingers to Zayn’s neck to check for a pointless pulse, but Louis pulled his hand back like a frog’s tongue snatching a fly.

“Do not get your wrist anywhere near his mouth,” Louis scolded, the memory of Harry’s extended fangs lunging for his own flashing through his thoughts. He didn’t need Niall getting any more spooked than he already was. This was day one. “And I’m calm about this because I already went through it. I’m Harry’s blood-partner, I’m quite familiar with vampires by now,” he sighed, watching Niall watch Zayn and finding the same look he’d given Harry.

“He’s beautiful,” Niall moaned, his words wholly congruent with his dreamy facial expression as he gazed at the dead man over his shoulder.

“He’s alright,” Louis sniffed, objectively finding Harry’s elusive, broody, and mysterious, not to mention superior personality, to be far more enthralling than Zayn’s snarky, carefree, reckless, and humourous one. That’s as objective as it gets; obviously Harry is his everything, and there is no possible comparison on the planet.

Niall shifted his eyes to squint them at Louis, and Louis chuckled, the peaceful moment getting thrust into a panic when the vampire moved. Zayn rolled over from his back to his side and wrapped an arm around Niall’s hips, snuggling into the back that went board straight with anxiety. “Holy shit!” Niall exclaimed, twisting his neck around to look down at the scene.

Zayn quietly hummed and snuck his nose under Niall’s shirt, pressing his face against the warmth of his skin, and Niall was in imminent danger of exploding.

“They do that,” Louis noted, laughing at the sweat running down Niall’s face like he’d shoved a whole ghost pepper down his throat.

“Why?” Niall quietly screeched, the cold temperature of Zayn’s face and lips sending chills up his spine.

“Because we’re the embodiment of warmth. We kind of radiate it like space heaters, and they’ll always chase it. They wanna be near it.”

“And we have to shiver all night?” Niall asked incredulously, seeing no benefit to freezing his ass off while Zayn was all cozied up.

“Small price to pay. Once you’re his blood-partner, you’ll understand why,” Louis said, hopping up to his feet and holding out a hand out. “Come on, let’s go to the living room. There’s an Elton John album with your name on it.”

“I can’t go anywhere, _look_ at this,” Niall cried, frantically gesturing to the arm that was around his hips, trying to ignore the subtle back and forth of Zayn’s thumb across the outer side of his thigh.

“Just take my hand, I’ll pull you out,” Louis suggested, shaking the hand again to command he be obeyed.

“Oh fuck, alright,” Niall sighed, clasping his fingers around Louis’ and working with him to escape the clutches of the serene vampire.

Which he didn’t like very much.

Zayn’s grip only tightened as Niall tried to leave, and the humans wrestled around to get him off the bed, Louis kicking at Zayn’s elbow to try and loosen the grip. Zayn’s fangs dropped as a result of the attack, further giving a territorial hiss, and Louis dove forward to smack his head with the flashlight, which finally got Niall out into the middle of the room. Zayn grumbled angrily and flipped over, lying on his stomach and not making another sound.

Niall thankfully hadn’t seen the fangs, but he had heard the noise, and he brought it to attention pretty quickly.

“Did he just hiss?” he panted, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“Yeah, they do that too,” Louis said simply, guiding Niall back out the way they came and throwing him out the door so he could slam it shut.

They jogged back down the stairs, and Louis veered off to the kitchen, filling his arms with the snack foods on the counter and inviting Niall to pick his favourites as well. When they’d acquired everything that looked good, they shuffled into the living room and dropped it all down on the coffee table, Niall falling into the couch like his butt was a magnet.

Louis tiptoed over to the record player and flipped through the stack of albums to find Elton John’s _Madman Across the Water_ from 1971, and wrangled the vinyl onto the comforting player, dealing with all the mechanics until success was had.

Niall visibly relaxed as the soothing piano keys to _Tiny Dancer_ poetically danced out of the speaker. “This could calm anyone down,” he sighed, opening the eyes he’d closed in bliss when Louis cannonballed onto the couch beside him.

Both boys lurched forward to grab their first pick of junk food; Louis going for an entire box of Chipos© New Fashioned Potato Chips, and Niall deciding on a PayDay© peanut bar. Louis was really going to need to have a sit-down with Harry and explain to him that this kind of stuff made people fat. Maybe there weren’t calorie-filled candy bars in Ancient Rome, but this is corporate America.

“So what do we do until sundown?” Niall asked around a sticky mouthful of peanuts and thick, syrupy sugar.

“Talk about nothing. Talk about very important things. Do our homework. Eat until we puke. Play hide-and-go-seek,” he listed, chuckling at the last one because he knew if they were to play, Niall would not only get lost, but he would wander around in amazement inside every room he looked for Louis in.

“Sounds promising,” Niall laughed, leaning into the couch and throwing the wrapper back onto the table, kicking his feet upon the surface and crossing his ankles. Maybe tonight would be absolutely crazy, but right now certainly didn’t have to be.

 

\---

 

Louis and Niall had found a plethora of ways to kill the time, not much of it including homework, and they’d quieted down when the sun fell behind the western horizon, now left with nothing to do but wait for whomever would be the first vampire to wake up and approach them.

It was Zayn.

“I could act like I know nothing,” Zayn’s silky/irritating—depending on who you asked—voice suddenly called down from the second floor. Both heads spun to face him, and his smirk was a downright lethal one. “And that it never happened,” he continued, leaping over the railing and practically floating down to the ground because grandiose is his middle name. “...but I wanna know—” he mused, stalking forward and bending down to come face to face with Niall. “—why I smell you on my skin,” he purred, a sultry raise of his left eyebrow finishing the picture.

“‘Cuz he touched it,” Louis muttered obviously, the dazed spell over Niall breaking in an instant.

“Louis!” he cried, affronted that Louis had a particular habit of throwing him under the bus at every opportunity.

Zayn reached out and gently turned Niall’s chin back to peer into his eyes, scrutinizing him in a way that outwardly translated to both hungry and curious, but yeah, of course it was both.

“Why were you touching me?” Zayn whispered darkly, Louis’ potato chips making a mad dash back up to his throat. It was attractive and sensual when Harry used his lure, but knowing how ridiculous Zayn really was put a damper on its usually daunting effect. Then again, Louis had never seen the predator facet of Zayn before because he belonged to an Elder who took automatic precedence over his hormones. Zayn had never shown his lure to Louis out of respect and common sense, so he'd never _appeared_ seductive and menacing...but maybe the Pakistani can get a little rabid when he has free range.

“I...I was intrigued that you didn’t have a heartbeat,” Niall stuttered, holding his ground better than Louis would have expected for him, and turning around fully to sit on his knees and face Zayn head-on.

“Did you finish your little science project?” Zayn asked with a wink, leaning in to nuzzle his nose across Niall’s cheek.

“Yeah, you’re dead,” Niall said between heavy breaths, the scent of the vampire sending bouts of desire straight through his body.

“Do me a favour,” Zayn said, taking Niall’s wrist and pressing his hand to his uncovered chest, “and touch me when I’m awake. I want to _feel_ it.”

“Wow, Harry was right,” Louis cackled, pointing at the horny pair with an accusing finger. “You _are_ in heat.”

“Harry is a prude,” Zayn bit back, diving in to plant his lips on Niall’s and shock him into losing focus on anything else.

“I wouldn’t say that about Harry if I were you,” Martin announced from the opposite side of the staircase, jumping down in the same way that Zayn had. “You don’t know if he’s awake yet or not.”

“So?” Zayn asked after parting from Niall’s lips, the blonde’s eyes practically crossing as he swooned. “Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, he just woke up this very second,” Louis suddenly mentioned, his gaze empty as he concentrated on his underground lover’s movements.

“What...how do you know?” Martin asked, Zayn sharing a knowing and perplexed look with the butler over Louis’ head.

“I can feel it,” Louis replied, breaking his zone and looking between the stunned vampires.

“That...is _not_ an ability of a blood-partner,” Zayn said carefully, staring at Louis as though he were an alien.

“I don’t know, I just sense it. He’s walking up the stairs,” he informed, his eyes glossing over once more.

Zayn’s intelligence was in shambles. Can this happen? “Louis,” he said, trying to bring his attention back to the room he was actually in. “That’s what _we_ do. Humans shouldn’t have that power.”

Louis rolled his eyes and shot Zayn with a sidelong smirk. “I’m complicated.”

“... So I’ve heard.”

“What’s—what is he talking about, Lou?” Niall asked, the most confused out of everyone here.

Louis just smiled and pat Niall on the knee. “Not on the first night, darling.”

“I _was_ walking up the stairs,” Harry chimed from the second floor landing, staring down at Louis with the identical expression the other two immortals had penetrated him with.

Louis held Harry’s gaze with twice the strength, speaking a million things whilst saying nothing at all.

“But I suppose with you, anything inconceivable should be expected,” the Roman added, jumping down and rushing over to Louis as the human leapt over the back of the couch, just in time to catch him in his arms.

Louis happily whined and wrapped all his limbs around Harry’s tall frame, squeezing him with every ounce of strength he had.

“Hello, my love,” Harry chuckled, spinning in a circle and returning the squeeze in a way that wouldn't hurt him. “Nice to see you again, Niall,” he added over Louis’ shoulder.

“Likewise,” Niall said politely, his eyes automatically shifting back to Zayn.

Harry smirked at the behavior and interlocked his fingers under Louis’ butt, pivoting so he could be seen by all. “We have an interesting night ahead of us. Not only will it be new to Louis, but all of this is new to Niall. We need to go over some things.”

“Couldn't agree more,” Martin seconded, hopping onto the back of the couch and swinging his legs attentively.

“No, come here,” he said to his butler, meeting Zayn’s eyes and calling him forth as well.

When all three immortals were lined up and the humans stood across from them, the demonstrations could begin. “Show him,” Harry cryptically instructed, all vampires dropping and displaying their fangs to let Niall get used to the vision.

“Whoa! Those are lethal,” Niall breathed in fascination rather than fear, creeping along the rug to get a closer look.

Zayn grinned widely and licked over his top row of teeth, snapping them together and giving the blonde a mischievous wink.

“Louis, you didn't tell me they had—” He would have said “retractable fangs,” but one look at his best friend proved he would not be getting an answer. “Louis?” he called, waving his hand to try and get his attention. Louis looked like he'd been hypnotized, staring at Harry's fangs and tightening his fists on the bottom of his shirt. “What are you—”

“He wants me,” Harry informed, his gaze traveling over to Louis’ desperate form and closing his lips so he wasn't being so insensitive.

“Might as well, Harry. We're gonna be in a club, he can't be gawking at every single couple in there,” Zayn said logically, cocking his head in Niall’s direction.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked Niall like a true gentleman.

Niall was terrible under pressure, and he looked over to Louis, who had an expression that said “If you mind, I'm going to kill you,” so he didn't have much of a choice. “No, I don't mind.”

Harry smiled curtly as a thank you and stalked forward to trap Louis between the couch and himself. His arms slid around Louis’ back and one hand came up the back of his neck into his hair. He kissed Louis’ lips first and left a trail down to his neck, picking a more recent scar to sink his fangs into.

Niall watched with rapt attention as the teeth came back into view and then found their objective, Louis jerking in response and clearly fighting making any noise. His back arched and his eyes rolled back into his head, biting his lip as his eyebrows cinched together in obvious pleasure.

Zayn averted his eyes from the Elder and watched Niall’s reaction to the process, needing to know how hard it would be to break him in. _Good, he looks intrigued_ , Zayn thought deviously, his hard gaze managing to rip Niall’s determined one onto him instead.

Now, just because there wasn't any outright terror on the blonde’s face, did not mean he didn't have a hefty amount nerves. His awkwardness was palpable, and Zayn wished he could sate that tentative curiosity, but he had to wait.

Harry pulled off then and gasped for air, wiping the blood from his lips and using his own black sleeve to press onto Louis’ neck. Niall took in Harry’s features, and the deathly state he'd been in previously couldn't contrast any further.

“You're alive,” the blonde stated plainly, looking back and forth between everyone in the room.

“I am,” Harry agreed, planting a short kiss on Louis’ lips and ruffling his hair. “You're gonna see that a lot tonight,” he addressed to Niall, needing the boy to understand the magnitude of what he'd be walking into. “It'll be all around you. Don't focus on it or stare at the couples; vampires are territorial by nature, and more often than not, their humans are even worse. If handled recklessly, a fight could break out, and that will be a nuisance.”

“The humans are worse?” Louis scoffed petulantly, crossing his arms and squinting his eyes at Harry.

Harry gave him an incredulous and condescending look. “Flashback to the time you whined about a bloodbag...how do you think you would have reacted if another human was ogling me while I was buried in your neck?”

Louis paled and whipped around to face Niall. “Don't look at anyone,” he ordered, wholly comprehensive of what could happen.

“I’m pretty adaptable,” Niall defended, actually generating a fair amount of trust. He’d looked, sure, but nobody can deny he didn’t gasp or cry or anything of the sort. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Zayn walked around the two humans and threw the largest couch up in the air, catching it underneath with two hands, then lowering one when he found the perfect balance. “How ‘bout this?” he bragged proudly, waggling his eyebrows at Niall’s stunned expression.

“That’s...impressive,” Niall tried to say casually, his widened eyes twitching as he tried to return them to normal.

Zayn chuckled and pushed the couch off his hands, darting out while Harry and Martin rushed to catch it and ease it back onto the rug before it would likely break its way through the floorboards. “Wait here,” he instructed to Niall, walking down the western hallway and disappearing from view.

“What’s he doing?” Niall asked to Louis, who only shrugged and pointed a finger back to where Zayn had left, basically saying, “Watch, and you’ll find out.”

“Can you hear how far away I am?” Zayn called, his voice echoing to demonstrate he’d made substantial distance from the living room.

“Yeah?” Niall shouted back needlessly, jumping back when Zayn instantly appeared directly in front of him.

“Holy shit that was fast,” he gasped, accepting the help when Zayn reached out to steady his wobbling.

“You might see that here and there,” Zayn responded, trying to come up with examples as to why vampires would be running through such a small space of a club, and coming up blank. Better to be prepared, though. You never know.

“Okay...okay I think I’m fine,” Niall said naïvely, albeit admirably.

“That’s good, because we gotta go now,” Harry quipped, holding his hand out for Louis. “Come, my love. Let’s get you dressed,” he said, taking him into his arms and jumping up to the second floor. “We’ll be right back,” he said to their company, carrying Louis off to the next staircase.

Niall stood in awkward silence while Zayn looked him up and down; he didn’t really know what the look translated to, and he was tempted to ask, but he couldn’t find any words.

Zayn scrutinized the blonde’s outfit, taking in the blue jeans, black high-top Converse, speckled t-shirt, and purple windbreaker. “Harry, get Niall a shirt. I’ll give him my jacket,” he said quietly, as though Harry were still in the room.

“He can hear you?” Niall squeaked, squirming under the smirk he received.

“Yeah, pet. He can hear us. Just like I could hear you from the kitchen when you said that you think you’re in love with me,” he lilted, creeping forward and gingerly sliding Niall’s windbreaker off his shoulders.

“Ugh, do I need to leave?” Martin sassed from his ignored position against a pillar.

“No, when you ever need to leave, I guarantee you that you’ll know for sure,” Zayn said with another wink to Niall, giving the coat he'd removed a deep inhale before laying it on the back of the couch.

Niall blushed and concluded that vampires’ senses were of a capability beyond that which he could imagine, everything from his weird first encounter making so much more sense now. “Do you think I smell good?” he asked nervously.

Zayn could feel his fangs coming out so he pointedly left his lips closed, giving a lopsided smile and resting his cheek against Niall’s to breathe his air. He pushed the lungful out with a small sigh of pleasure from somewhere deep in his throat, pulling back to play with Niall’s blonde hair while the boy gawked at him with big, blue eyes. “Yeah,” he said as simplistically as he could, still in a match with the mouse to keep him guessing.

They waited in intermittent silence for quite some time, and just as Niall was about to fill it with more casual words, Louis made his grand entrance.

“Peace and love, my kitty cats,” Louis theatrically cried from the top of the stairs, stealing everyone’s attention because of his get-up, especially Zayn’s.

“You look fantastic! Harry, I told you the 70’s were fashionable!” he scolded the Roman, who had adopted something similar to the first look he’d donned when they’d gone clubbing: leather trousers he could have painted onto his lengthy stick legs, an off-white, frilly long-sleeve top that he’d forfeited buttoning after the third one up, and a smaller-than-his-actual-size tux-style overcoat that looked like it had been run over by a car and decorated in _The Grateful Dead_ pins. Also, instead of the black ankle boots he usually wore, he’d decided to go for a pair of sparkly silver ones, that Zayn had definitely never seen. He’d also left his hair down and wild, curling and billowing around him like a lion’s mane, and his rings were gaudy and plenty.

So essentially a Harry that Zayn had never seen in his life.

On to Louis. Louis had tight, pearl white bell-bottoms hugging his legs until the knees, flaring out to hang around black and white platform shoes that gave him about three inches of height off the ground. Snapped onto his chest was a tight-fitted black t-shirt that had been cut into a crop top that revealed only a sliver of his midriff above the trousers, most likely rubber banded in the back to keep it squeezing his form. Over that was Harry’s furry black coat he liked to strut around in sometimes, and he had teased his hair into an unmanageable mess of quiff. He also had a number of jewelry pieces that weren’t his, and the necklace was especially telling.

The necklace hanging down his shirt was Harry’s sun necklace, which all vampires kind of just had. Zayn can’t even remember where he got his, it’s somehow an unspoken thing that if you were a vampire, you probably had a sun necklace lying around somewhere in all your belongings. The fact that Harry had given it to his human to wear, would signify to everyone who saw him and the large metal sun around his neck that he was precious as all fuck to his immortal, and messing with him would likely result in a swift death. Smart thinking.

Zayn wished he had his on him to drop over Niall’s shoulders, but those things are rarely ever worn casually, and it would probably take him a long time to find it in his messy house. Harry threw a black button-up down and Zayn caught it, handing it over to Niall, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Louis yet.

“Louis, you look like a celebrity!” Niall gleamed, his hand blindly finding the black shirt and watching the rock star descend the steps with his ancient Roman at his side.

“Why thank you, Niall,” he said joyfully, twirling in a circle when he landed on the bottom of the stairs. “Now take off your shirt,” he ordered, skipping up to Niall and yanking his t-shirt up his chest.

“Alright, alright,” Niall giggled, smacking at Louis’ invasive hands and doing the rest himself. He tried not to notice Zayn staring at him like he was a decadent course on a platter, and shrugged into the black long-sleeve that Harry had chosen for him. “You know, I didn’t even know you owned that pair of shoes,” he said to Louis to pass the time, wrestling with the buttons to cover his exposed chest.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Niall,” Louis said mysteriously, laughing at himself and getting serious. “No, but my Mom would give me money sometimes, and I collected a bit of accessories and hid them from Troy,” he explained, launching his mind in a different direction before he started worrying about and freaking out over Stacey again.

Zayn guided his leather jacket onto Niall’s shoulders and held him from behind when he was all dressed, nuzzling into his neck while Niall rested his head against Zayn’s.

“Ready?” Harry asked the room, nobody having noticed Martin leave to get changed and come back. Harry complimented Martin’s golden suit, and the butler handed out his reciprocal praises, then they had no more reason to stay. Other than remaining safe in denial, of course.

They all walked outside and Martin didn’t bother locking anything, because if their enemies were vampires, a lock would not serve any other benefit than something to be broken. They crossed the grass to Zayn’s car and slipped inside one by one; Niall taking the passenger seat, Martin taking the back-left, and Harry sitting in the middle, Louis curled up to him on the other side. “So how long are we gonna need? Who are we trying to talk to?” Zayn asked Harry as he woke the engine up, the black muscle car roaring to life and puttering in the cold.

“I’m not sure. I have really good instincts, I might know who it is when I actually look at them all,” Harry guessed with a shrug, letting himself melt into Louis’ body warmth and relax while he still could.

“If you see anything, you let us know,” Zayn said, backing up and rolling over the path they’d trodden, crawling down the hill to avoid clipping the gate on his way out. It’s not like that would ever happen, but Zayn loves his car more than he missed sunlight, and that was an intense comparison.

“Remember not to say anything telling, you two,” Harry addressed to the innately naïve humans in the car. “We have brilliant senses; even with music, nobody should ever utter Auron’s name in the club. We won’t know who is listening.”

“Got it,” Niall said determinately, a sharp nod of his head succeeding the promise.

Louis nodded too, but there was a topic far more dire on his mind. “If we find the connection to Auron…” he began, picking at his cuticles as he thought. “...our lives are gonna change forever, aren’t they?” he finished seriously, Niall hearing the question as well and looking behind him to gauge Harry’s reaction.

Harry sighed under the gazes of the humans, letting his head fall back against the seats as Martin took over for him.

“If we find the connection, we might be able to take him out. If there’s a network, we need to find the epicenter. If we know where Auron is, we’ll have enough information to plan for something, because we have a lot of vampires working for us too...at least ones who would drop everything they were doing to help us. With Auron a ghost in the air, anything is possible, and we need to kill this uncertainty before it kills us. If we find Auron...all of our lives will change, yes. We won’t be able to stay here,” the butler said reluctantly, stealing the words out of both Harry and Zayn’s mouths. They’d known this much was true; if Auron learned of their location, that mansion couldn’t be home anymore.

“Two-hundred years I’ve been locked up in that mansion. I’d assumed Auron was out there up to no good, but I played no part in it whatsoever. To have this all happen so fast…” Harry sighed, Zayn pursing his lips in sympathy.

“I feel like this is my fault,” the Pakistani lamented, glancing at Harry in the rearview mirror.

“How? You didn’t even exist until the eighteenth century. This feud stretches back to before the second,” Harry brushed off.

“I dragged you out to the club that night,” Zayn pressed, unwilling to let himself climb out of all blame buckets before he could apologize.

“Don’t. Auron would have found me eventually. It didn’t matter when or where, I’m a priority to him. I expect he’s just been busy lately...but he never gave up,” he bit sourly, Louis rubbing at his thigh to calm him.

“I’m still sorry,” Zayn said, a weight lifting off his chest with the admission of guilt.

“It’s fine, your life is fucked now too,” he chuckled, giving Louis some affection because he was being so sweet. He coaxed him into his hold and ran his hands up and down the arm and leg he could get to.

“Is it hopeless?” Louis asked fearfully, his neck snapping up to command honesty out of his immortal with eye contact.

“No, it’s never hopeless. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I won’t make the stupid ones of the past. If I make new ones, then fuck me, but I’ve always been stronger than my brother. It’s why he has an army with him. If I get him alone...he’s dead,” Harry declared with fire in his eyes, diving in for a kiss as the car turned onto the main road, forty-five minutes left in their journey to kill time with.

Kissing and blood-drinking seems like a pretty entertaining way to do that, no?

 

\---

 

After a good chunk of driving the road to Brimsville, and awkward silence from Niall as he tried to focus on the light hum of the radio instead of Louis’ occasional moans from the heavy petting going on in the backseat, Zayn finally announced that they were just about there.

All heads perked up and the stress was felt throughout the car, Harry more so than anyone, but Louis was decently up there as well. Well...Niall was a puddle of sweat too, but that was understandable—he hadn’t even known any of this was _possible_ when he’d woken up this morning. That's a big shift of reality in one day.

Zayn neared the black brick building with its usual line of people crowding the front entrance, the establishment’s blood-red neon _Sharp Tongue_ sign blinking brightly in the dark of night. Instead of pulling over into the front lot, Zayn instead took the car past the club and around to the back, pulling into a smaller section of personnel parking, but nobody would stop them. He rolled his Camaro into a spot marked “Employees Only” and killed the engine, leaning back into his seat and taking a deep and unneeded breath.

“So what do we—” Louis began, cut off by Zayn’s subsequent statement.

“You guys wait outside for a second. I have personal business with Niall,” he said as he opened both the driver and passenger side doors, Louis, Harry, and Martin obediently squeezing through without too much forward seat pushing.

Louis noticed that Niall looked a little—a crapload more than a little—nervous, but he had a good idea of what this was about, and he let Harry lead them to the nearest street lamp, the Roman leaning against it and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

“You smoke?” Louis cackled, finding the habit a tad ridiculous for a vampire to indulge in.

“You didn’t think I had Zippos just for candles…” Harry said slyly, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled one such lighter out of his trousers and sparked the cigarette alive. “It’s not something I do a lot, necessarily...but every once in awhile,” he explained, beckoning Louis over into the space between his legs he’d made.

“You never fail to surprise me,” Louis chuckled, walking forward and cuddling into Harry’s chest, grinning with closed eyes as he listened to his lover’s thumping heartbeat. It always sparked a twinge of arousal within Louis that he’d transferred the gift of his life to Harry, and he was definitely feeling that twinge now—the attractiveness of a cigarette between Harry’s lips was also a noteworthy factor.

Louis reopened his eyes and squinted them at Zayn’s car, noticing that the pair must have moved to the back because he couldn’t see them anywhere. “Are they—”

“His blood just hit the air,” Harry confirmed, scrunching up his nose because the smell wasn’t particularly appealing in the slightest. Different strokes for different folks.

“Jesus, that happened quick. Why in the parking lot?” Louis chastised, scoping their surroundings in case any vampires were lurking in the shadows, fighting the  temptation of Niall’s blood aerating the environment with its potent scent.

“I understand the logic,” Harry argued, calming the defensive and useless ‘attack-mode’ Louis before he sprung into action. “A fang virgin in a club with an underground of them that only a select few of immortals can partake in is a stupid idea. You can’t claim a virgin, you can only use your strength to fend off competition. Niall would have been fair game if Zayn didn’t stake his ownership now, and that would have caused problems we don’t need. Doing it so close and recent helps solidify his dominance too.”

“You vampires really are territorial as all get-out,” Louis smirked, rising onto his tiptoes and seeking a kiss.

Harry looked down at his expectant Louis and took a drag of his Winston brand cigarette, pinching it between his fingers and dropping his hand to his side, blowing the smoke back up to the sky. He then bent down and accepted Louis’ offer, laughing against his lips when the human grunted in obvious displeasure.

“You taste weird,” Louis noted, smacking his lips together and shuddering from the stale taste of smoke. Father-Troy smoked, but Louis had never been one of the kids to steal a cigarette from their Dad...you can imagine what would have happened.

“It’ll go away,” Harry said with a yawn, bringing the cigarette back to his lips and sucking the nicotine in like he would save the world by doing it. He then flicked the stick onto the ground and stamped it out with his expensive boot, turning his gaze to the Camaro just in time for Zayn and Niall to come tumbling out of it.

“You vampires and your senses,” Louis mused enviously, wishing that he could detect every sound, sight, and smell around for miles. Or however far their senses stretched.

“Don’t worry. Some things are more exciting when they’re a mystery,” Harry said with a wink, strutting over to Zayn and clapping him on the back.

“You’ve won this time, Zayn. But don’t think it’s over between you and I. I will get you back,” Martin threatened emptily, both vampires grinning to each other.

“Louis,” Niall said drunkenly, accepting the arms that Louis threw around him. “I’m in love.”

“I told you,” Louis laughed, giving Niall a kiss on the forehead and guiding him back into Zayn’s awaiting arms.

“Your neck,” Niall breathed, gesturing at the overload of scars he’d never before seen covering every inch of Louis’ neck, now displayed clearly under the orange glow of the street light.

“See what I mean? You have one now too,” Louis said with a smirk, Niall’s hand flying up to graze his fingers against Zayn’s bite, shivering as he did so.

“We’ll all have time to talk about anything we want after this...but for now, we gotta go. Come on,” Harry said professionally, coaxing Louis under his possessive arm with a forceful grip to keep him safe, and walking in step with him to the entrance.

“My eyes will be vigilant,” Martin whispered to Harry’s back, taking on the role of big-picture-watching as the vampires worried predominantly over their humans.

“I know,” Harry said under his breath, their party rounding the corner and striding past all the people and vampires in line to enter like they didn't exist.

Louis wasn’t surprised that they’d be cutting line, he would have been confused if they’d waited. His let his gaze travel to the impatient patrons, most of their eyes wide and locked onto him and Harry anyway. Skimpily clad women with aggressively big hair—feathered, layered, and sprayed to copy the volume of Jerry Hall’s—made up a good majority of the outside individuals. Some had pixie cuts like Twiggy, others kept it long and straight with bangs like Joni Mitchell, and some had flipped the ends of their hair up like Mary Tyler Moore, and they all wore a different style and colour of outfit, but every single one of them were covered head to toe in bite marks. Louis was beginning to understand why Harry disliked them so much...that many marks from that many different immortals made him cringe too. Have some respect for yourself.

The male vampires that loomed over them had grown frustrated with their animated clucking, and they took exceptional interest in Niall. One by one, their eyes shifted over to look at him; they could tell he’d been freshly bitten, but his partner wasn’t the ancient Elder, so he was safer game to try.

A tan-skinned vampire of similar ethnicity to Zayn made one single step, and Zayn, Harry, _and_ Martin whipped around and hissed for all they were worth, every immortal against the wall getting the idea and backing off immediately. Harry draped his arm over Niall’s shoulders just above Zayn’s arm, and Martin flanked Louis’ other side, the group making it crystal clear that Louis and Niall were not to be touched.

“Animals,” Harry spat, rushing their pace to the front doors and corralling everyone inside as the bouncers respectfully gave way. The short and stuffy hallway opened up into a mass crowd of people under a disco ball, dancing and doing other unspeakable things while Elton John’s newish song _Crocodile Rock_ raged on from the speakers.

The customers inside did much of the same as outside, only they didn’t make any dumbass moves due to the guard the vampires had put up. Harry’s eyes were scouring the crowd for anyone that even looked like they might recognize him, or thinking something other than worshiping thoughts, but he saw no such creature.

“Let’s get a drink,” Martin suggested, redirecting traffic to approach the lengthy bar with that same bartender cleaning glasses and bopping along to the music.

“You get one if you want, I’m certainly not,” Harry said with an uncaring wave of his arm, Zayn surprising himself by denying the offer too.

Niall was trying his very hardest not to look at any of the humans or vampires in the room, and was doing a pretty good job, because Zayn was the only view he wanted anyway. However, when Zayn turned to inaudibly whisper something straight into Harry’s ear, Niall’s gaze traveled to Louis, singing along to the groovy tune as it neared its end.

Louis felt himself being stared at and he hopped off his stool, gracefully sneaking around Harry and Zayn to stand between Niall’s knees. “How are you?” he asked with a knowing glint in his eye, aware that because it had been his first time, Niall was undoubtedly still swimming in the bite’s euphoria. It was actually impressive that he was awake at all—Louis’ first time hadn't been so merciful to his energy levels.

“Amazing,” he breathed back, both friends giggling into their hands.

There were so many things Louis and Niall wanted to say to each other, because they were positively taken away by the fascinating environment of the vampire club, but they heeded Harry’s earlier suggestion from the car and decided not to say much of anything, figuring silence for now would probably serve them best. Instead, they watched (with a grazing scope) the dancing crowd have the most fun anyone could, twirling and grinding together, some biting, some kissing, others just hopping around to the funky beat of Stevie Wonder’s  _Superstition_ and its twangy bassline.

Harry and Zayn pulled away from each other and nodded grimly, whispering their plan to Martin as he finished his third shot at the bar, and Louis and Niall caught all the movement in their peripherals, looking over with confusion in regard to the obvious tension on the vampires’ features. The butler wiped his mouth and nodded his mysterious assent with furrowed eyebrows, all three immortals turning their eyes on the curious humans.

“Come on,” Harry instructed, taking Louis across the floor toward the back area hallway, one door on the left down a flight of stairs with a sign that stated very legibly: “Adults/Elders Only! 1850 And Earlier,” and the other two on the right designated for restrooms.

The whole group rushed into the men’s room and waited until the last dazed human had stumbled out en route to the dance floor, Harry giving Niall and Louis the plan with the limited amount of time they had to spare. “I think I just saw someone look at me weird and go into the V.I.P area. I can’t take you guys in there, doesn’t matter who I am, I won’t do it. Not something you should see. Lock this door, and Martin is going to stand outside to make sure nobody comes in here before we’re back. Zayn and I are going in there, but we’ll try to make this quick. If something happens, take them and run,” he added to his butler, Martin nodding tightly in response.

Louis’ heart lodged itself in his throat, but he resisted all urges to wrap his arms around Harry and beg him to stay; this needed to be done. “Please be careful,” he whined, Niall looking a bit put out at the news as well.

“I’ll be right back,” he said with a quick kiss to Louis’ forehead, dragging Zayn away after he’d done the same to Niall and disappearing out the door.

“I’ll be right outside, okay?” Martin said hurriedly, reminding them to lock it and then following the other two out.

Louis shuffled over and did what he was told, backing up against the sink once the latch was flipped and crossing his arms. “I wonder if it was the same guy who started all this,” Louis mused, realizing that Niall had no idea what he was talking about, but the blonde seemed preoccupied in his own head. “They’ll be fine, Niall. They’re strong,” he comforted, pushing off the sinks and hopping over to lean on the wall next to Niall.

“This just...this is all happening so fast,” Niall said incredulously, like he could hardly believe where he was standing and what was going on around him.

“Yeah...I kinda flipped your life upside-down,” Louis chuckled, knocking his shoulder against the blonde’s in an attempt to cheer him up.

They both heard the scuffling on the outside of the room at the same time, standing to attention and facing the door. “Martin?” Niall called, both boys listening for a response that never came. “What’s—” Niall began as he turned to face Louis, his eyes widening like the moon at something over Louis’ shoulder. “Louis...” he whimpered, raising his shaky pointer finger.

Louis just barely got the time to look over his shoulder before the glass of the bathroom’s only window exploded and shot into the interior in a million pieces. The humans covered their faces from the blast, and the speedy figure that had invaded promptly knocked Niall’s head into the wall, the blonde losing consciousness and sagging to the floor before he could even squeak.

“Niall—!” Louis cried, all potential words dying on his tongue faster than the embodiment of death had launched himself through the window. Said creature then grabbed Louis by the neck and shoved him against the very same wall, but the second their eyes met, the second their worlds stopped.

Auron.

Alexander.

Louis stared hard into the bright green eyes of Harry inside an immortal that amazingly _wasn't_ him, the curly locks of _Harry’s_ hair framing the same face that _Harry_ shaped to give Louis looks of everlasting love, but this was not Harry’s face, and that couldn't ever be clearer—this clone face was terrifyingly darkened with pure hatred and malice, his eyes murderous and cold.

While Louis had been making these quick assessments, Auron’s victory smirk had transformed into a scowl of confusion, and Louis found one short moment to be proud of himself—apparently a measly human had taken the lethal Elder by surprise.

The infamous brother huffed as he tried to figure the mystery out, his hand slowly lowering from around Louis’ neck and his eyes widening as he slowly shook his head. He shifted his gaze downward and caught sight of Hadrian’s sun necklace around the human’s neck, catching it in his palm and bouncing it up and down, letting it fall when he remembered its wearer was far important to pay attention to.

He pulled back and then leaned back in, bending so their faces were level and inches apart, the most dumbstruck and agitated expression displayed on his face. “Lexy?” he breathed dubiously, squinting his eyes as he took in the multi-coloured eyes of the _human_ , disregarding all laws of reality.

“You didn’t think you’d killed off my monstrous existence completely, did you?” Louis said without thinking, a clear idea in the back of his mind as to why that statement had spoken itself—Alexander making his short club scene debut.

“Oh, but I _did_ ,” Auron argued icily, stepping even closer and taking in the human’s scent, verifying once and for all this was indeed a human, and not a live vampire.

“Obviously not,” Louis whispered, goading the vampire as the sound of an obvious brawl broke through the door on the other side of the hallway.

The pair were both jarred by the feral roar of “ _Auron_!” from a gradually nearing Harry, each having a starkly contrasting reaction to the outburst—relief and fear.

Auron’s eyes nervously shifted to the doorway, and he knew he didn’t have much time before his twin would come hurtling into the bathroom. He needed to leave. He was a bit furious he'd gotten so unprecedentedly sidetracked, but there was always next time. Plus, with this unexpected twist dropped onto their ongoing story, he couldn’t possibly end it all now. This was too interesting...he had things to discover. He quickly looked back to the human form of Alexander and took in all his features, documenting them unnecessarily because he’d spent centuries looking at them in the past.

“...I did not expect this,” Harry’s brother purred in a daunting, silky tone that bordered on delighted, and Louis’ skin crawled from its predatory edge.

“I’m gonna stop you this time,” Louis warned, barely understanding what he was saying, but knowing in his soul that Auron was an immortal that could not under any circumstances be allowed to continue.

Auron gave a smug wink in lieu of answering, taking Alex’s closest hand in his and planting a cordial kiss to the back of it. “The game just changed. Now I know. See you soon, Lexy,” he taunted, disappearing in a flash from the restroom not a millisecond later, leaving Louis all alone in the frigid air with a passed out Niall at his feet.

Louis’ mind was reeling with terror and panic, and he began to realize he was slowly losing own damn consciousness too from the insane overload of adrenaline his body had been flooded with. That was Auron. Auron had touched him. He’d been right in front of him. He's gonna come back. Louis felt himself slide down the length of the wall when his knees gave out, his heavy eyes closing as he weakly fell over onto his side on the black and white tiles of the floor, just as Harry had finally smashed his way inside.

Well no _way_ is he going to sleep now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck me running, I have the fattest crush on Auron. Like I know he's evil and shit but like...like, I wouldn't care if I had the chance. Rough me up, Daddy twin. (me: an ace boy, spouting my mouth about a bunch of empty sexual desires. A MAN CAN DREAM.)


	4. High-Speed Cornfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have loved to be a part of this main scene. Sorry these uploads don't come as snappy as usual, but like...fuck. I'm currently on chapter 12. Writing as fast as I can so you never have to wait on me actually writing. But you might end up doing that. I shouldn't have started the WIP this soon, rip. I hope you guys are glad i did anyway tho. I hope the pain is worth it. Mwah! <3

“Louis!” Harry cried into Louis’ petrified eyes, taking in the sight of the humans on the floor, and the glass coating everything that had obviously come from the shattered window. He had a moment of serious fight or flight in his head wherein he concluded he could chase Auron down from this distance, but the second he tried to make a break for it and leapt for the window, Zayn caught his ankle and swung him all the way over his head, slamming his back against the floor, Louis flinching from the destructive impact it made on the checkerboard tiles and scrambling into a sitting position.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Zayn snarled, going back to the unresponsive Martin and dragging him the rest of the way inside the bathroom, standing against the door when he was done in case any stragglers would come trying to knock it down. “Give me Niall. Harry! Give me Niall. Now!” he shouted, not meaning to be so forthright with the Elder, but they didn’t have the luxury of slow proceedings.

Harry shook himself from his reckless goal and rose out of the canyon his body had indented upon the floor, lifting Niall in his arms and quickly depositing him to Zayn. He then stepped over his battered butler and jumped straight to Louis, dropping to his knees before him. “My Louis,” he whined, fighting tears as Louis threw his arms around him and wailed into his neck.

“Harry, it was him. He was here,” Louis whimpered, pulling back with eyes drowned in sheer terror.

“I know, baby. I know. This was all bigger than we fucking thought, this is Auron’s territory. We never should have come here, and we need to leave. Now,” he said, helping Louis to his feet and taking a moment to assess his physical state. There were no bite marks on him, and no blood had been spilled at all, which was probably just pure luck. Niall wasn’t exactly so lucky with the forehead gash he was sporting, but his heartbeat was strong. He’d be fine when he woke up; the migraine would be the worst of his ailments.

“How do we get out, Harry? One of us has to carry Martin,” Zayn pleaded, trying his best to wake his cute little Niall, but Harry’s brother had done the job right.

Harry looked like he wanted to explode because he didn’t know what to do, and he usually does. He didn’t want to go back into the club because anyone else could be lurking around to continue the battle, but out the window was the direction Auron had gone.

“We go through the window,” Louis piped, wringing his hands together as he processed what all had occurred in the last ten minutes.

“Are you _positive_?” Harry stressed, holding Louis’ face and searching his eyes for the confidence he needed and didn’t have.

“Auron isn’t making a second move tonight. He made a grand exit. He likes theatrics. He let me know the game is on,” he said, shivering as Auron’s threat was officially set in stone, thanks to his words. He _had_ to acknowledge it now. “Now that he knows he’s expected, he won’t come back,” he added, Harry looking impressed at his deduction.

“You’re right, Louis. It’s like you know him better than I do,” Harry said, staring at Martin with pursed lips and apparently making his decision.

Louis watched as Harry heaved Martin off the floor and chucked him straight through the window, not even looking at what kind of things lie beneath it on the other side. He could have just thrown him into a cactus patch, but he couldn’t currently care to check.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured in response to Louis’ expression of concern.

Zayn decided it was his turn, suddenly running across the floor and jumping through the window with Niall in his arms, the two separate set of limbs somehow making it through with no blockages.

Harry only had to look over and meet Louis’ eyes for the human to nod and latch onto to Harry’s front like a koala, steeling himself for the sketchy jump they would make.

Harry didn't even use a running start, simply leapt from his stance and angled his body toward the opening. He twisted around halfway through and Louis squeezed his eyes shut as he clung to Harry’s body, feeling the blast of cold air once they were outside.

He opened his eyes again to watch the world spinning around, unsure of where he was in space and time until Harry righted them both and landed flawlessly. “Glad I didn't eat before this,” he groaned, sliding out of Harry's hold and allowing him to pick Martin up instead.

“Hush,” Harry barked at Louis with a look of utter disapproval, throwing his butler over his shoulder and pulling Louis into his other side.

“We need to _go_ ,” Zayn urged obviously, taking tiny steps and jabbing his head toward the car.

“I'm driving,” Harry commanded, Zayn fishing his keys out of his pocket and tossing them to Louis without question. Well actually he _did_ have a question. “You can drive?”

Harry scoffed as they all continued to briskly jog through the lot, the vampires scanning every which way for enemies. “I'm two thousand years old, and you think I can't drive.”

“Cars are new,” Zayn defended, recalling all the times that Harry snootily declared cars were useless and annoying.

Once they were close enough, Louis broke out of Harry’s hold, rushing the key to the driver door and rapidly flying across the seats to unlock the other one. He then scooted out and pushed the driver seat toward the wheel, leaving just enough room for Martin to be thrown in the back.

Zayn with Niall were quick to follow, the unconscious blonde being forced into the middle seat because it was best for him to be between two immortals, even if one was temporarily out of service.

Louis raced around the car to the passenger side and Harry watched the process like a hawk, waiting until Louis was safely inside before getting in himself. He shoved the key into the ignition and peeled out of the lot like a professional racecar driver, flying through the gap they'd taken to come in, and swerving onto the main road, straightening out and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror.

“Where was everyone?” Louis asked when he had the breath, referring to the mass amount of nobody he'd seen outside the club.

“Shit went south and they fled,” Harry said tightly, his shifty eyes darting between the road in front of them, and the one behind them.

“Is someone gonna come after us?” Louis asked in a higher pitch than normal, joining Harry in his paranoid glancing.

“You don't understand what happened in there,” Harry said vaguely, twisting his neck around to assess Martin. “Zayn, what the fuck is wrong with him? He should be fine by now…”

Zayn made a sound of agreement and leaned over Niall, prodding at Martin and lifting his limbs one by one to observe them crashing back down lifelessly. In light of that, he checked his pulse. He wasn't even alive anymore, so it really didn't make any sense. As Harry said, he _should_ be fine. He got an idea and opened one of Martin’s eyes, stretching further across Niall to get a closer look.

“What?” Harry demanded when Zayn hadn't said anything yet. “What is it? Is he okay?”

“... He has sun sickness,” Zayn breathed in shock, like he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Harry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyebrows cinched together while his mind tried to rationalize what he'd been told. “That's impossible.”

“Then why are the whites of his eyes red?” Zayn asked pointedly, agreeing with the statement that it's impossible, but that's not what this evidence was telling him.

“What is it? What's sun sickness specifically?” Louis asked whomever would answer, his knowledge of vampires in the sun only extending to exhaustion and drainage, not severe comatose incapacitation.  

“Vampires don't look at the sun,” Harry replied, slowing when they came to a stop light and turning his face so he could speak directly to Louis. “When we're merely _in_ the sun, we suffer consequences, but...looking at it…” He paused, shuddering over all the times he'd done it on purpose. “If you humans look right at the sun, it hurts your eyes, yeah? You can't look for long. Imagine us. When we do it, not only is it agony, but we don’t recover from it for a good long while. _Dammit_ , we don’t have time for this,” he muttered, weaving through traffic once the light turned green and only touching the brake when they came to the next one.

“But you _do_ recover...” Louis pressed, his eyes widening as he thought of Martin’s real death.

“Yes, we do,” Harry assured, patting Louis’ thigh and glancing back at Zayn. “He needs blood. We gotta get him better, we’re gonna need his help.”

Niall took that time to start groaning into the car, his fuddled mind slowly waking up and adopting coherency. “What the—” he croaked, instantly poking at the wound on his forehead and gasping from the sting. His eyes flew open to see Zayn hovering over him like an angel, and the pain in his head lessened for just a moment.

“Thank fucking God,” Zayn sighed, kissing Niall’s lips and letting himself relax while he could.

“What the fuck happened?” Niall asked, looking over at Martin’s awful condition and sitting up straight, wildly looking around in the car and at the road. “Is Martin…”

“He'll be alright, Niall,” Zayn comforted, yearning for a simpler life with which to share with his newfound attraction. He could be drinking his blood and pleasuring him right now, but instead they were racing through the streets to put the war-like environment they'd just left behind them.

Niall visibly relaxed to hear Martin wasn't in actual peril, but that gave him time to consider everything else, and his panic returned with a vengeance. “Louis, are you okay?” he demanded, scooting forward and scrutinizing his best friend for injuries.

“Fine, Niall,” Louis soothed, grimacing at the blood on Niall’s face. “But you weren’t looking too good for a minute there. Auron broke into the bathroom and knocked you out,” he recounted, Harry cringing over to the side when the name of his brother pierced his ears.

“That bastard,” Niall growled as he remembered those first few moments. “How did you escape?”

“I didn’t...he conceded for the time being.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I’m—”

“Enough questions,” Harry interrupted, not wanting anything to interfere with his focus. “We’ll have the time to talk about everything later. Right now is not that time.”

Zayn reached forward and guided Niall back onto the seat, turning his cheek to peer into his eyes. “I can make you feel better,” he murmured to give the illusion of privacy while he dropped his fangs for clarification.

Niall blushed and tilted his head back, permitting Zayn to perch himself on his lap and lean into his neck. He was only given a second of preparation before Zayn’s teeth did that thing again, and then his world consisted of nothing but rainbows and ecstasy. He unashamedly moaned into the Camaro, his short nails digging into Zayn’s lower back.

Zayn hummed against the blonde’s warm skin and opened his eyes, honing in on a rather troubling sight and reluctantly pulling out only ten seconds after he’d initiated the bite. “We got company,” he gasped, using his sleeve to dab at Niall’s neck while he ducked to give Harry sight out the back window.

Harry checked the rearview mirror and spotted a vehicle weaving through traffic in the same manner they were, obviously following their trail and making nerve-rackingly good progress. “Shit,” he cursed, stepping on the gas and booking it probably way faster than was legal.

He made the nearest turn he could, and it ended up being a highway that stretched in the opposite direction of which they’d been going, but it wasn’t the main road where anyone would have come from, so it would have to do. The tires squealed as he completed the wide, nearly circular detour, evening out once they were met with straight pavement as far as any of them could see.

They barreled through the two-lane road in the middle of nothing but fields, tall stalks of corn bending over the roadside ditches like eerie, crooked fingers. Louis held his breath as they drove in solitude, _just in case_ the car hadn’t been following them, but when the same shaped headlights suddenly appeared in the distance, he knew it was serious. “What do we do?” he asked Harry, the vampire going through their options and making a rash one.

“Louis, drive!” Harry barked, already leaning away to make the transition of control.

“I-I can’t,” Louis stuttered, the Roman’s face falling as his plan was thwarted.

“I can do it,” Niall said confidently, waving Zayn’s arms away when he tried to stop him. The blonde got himself through the break in the seats and shared Louis’, inching his way closer as Harry stared at him skeptically.

“You just hit your head,” Harry remarked, realizing that he may be their only option at all.

“My Dad owns two Porsches. They go fast. I know how to drive fast,” he explained simply, his heart thumping in his chest when Harry accepted and let him take the wheel. It was a bit of a struggle for Niall to squeeze through the gap behind Harry to take his place as the driver, but it ended successfully, and the engine aggressively roared to its full capacity thrum as he dropped the transmission into fourth gear for an extra boost of speed.

Harry had slunk into the backseats with Zayn, and the two were fishing around under the front seats for something apparently important, and Louis leaned over to inspect their actions. “What are you doing?” he asked the vampires’ backs, gasping when they pulled out two handguns each, around ten clips, and several boxes of ammo. “You’re not actually—”

“Roll down the windows, you two,” Harry ordered, depositing the rounds into each clip with inhuman speed to fill five of them before the windows would even be down.

“You heard him,” Louis quipped to the hesitant Niall, spinning the crank in the fastest circle he could manage, his forearm cramping in protest.

Niall did the same and kept his eyes moving from the road, to the gradually nearing vehicle behind them. “What the hell are they driving that’s so fucking fast?” he wheezed as though he were outside running, stepping on the gas even harder to try and get more distance.

“Niall, do not let the gunshots make you jerk the car, please. We need clear aim,” Zayn instructed, giving his love a casual pat on the shoulder for support.

“Sure,” Niall choked, now more determined than ever to drive in a straight line.

“Scoot your seats forward,” Harry added, Zayn helping Niall with his since he was driving.

“You two are insan—”

“Save it, Louis,” Harry said with a quick kiss to his cheek, squeezing through the front seat and the open window from the back, twisting himself around to sit on the ledge and point his gun at the oncoming chaser.

Niall had gone hunting enough times with this Dad to keep himself focused when the vampires started firing off rounds, but poor Louis never saw it coming.

Louis shrieked like a banshee and slapped his hands over his ears, flinching with every shot as though he were getting electrocuted. “Jesus!” he cried, though he wasn't under any impression that said particular religious icon was listening to him.

When the vampires’ shots hadn't pierced anyone’s skull after breaking through the windshield, they dipped back in to grab their next loaded clip.

“Wait, Harry,” Zayn said, stopping the Roman in his ambition to keep firing.

“Uh, guys?” Niall chimed from the front.

“What?” Harry snapped to Zayn in annoyance. “Tires next, let's bring the car down.”

“Wait!” Zayn griped, yanking Harry back down after he’d attempted to spring out the window. “Shouldn't we just take care of them?” he asked, cocking his head toward the car behind them. “If we bring the car down, and they're vampires, they'll only catch up faster. We can all run way faster than this. We have to take them out.”

“Guys!” Niall repeated, a little more panicked this time.

“Harry…” Louis added, leaning back in his seat and holding his breath.

Harry seemed to contemplate Zayn’s logic, but he knew they didn't have time for pros and cons, so he gave a sharp nod of his head and put his gun down.

“Hang onto something!” Niall shouted, shocking everyone by making a hard right swerve and driving straight into the cornfield.

Louis had screeched the whole time and was hanging onto the handhold above the window like it was the only thing saving him from a pit of burning lava below.

“What the hell’d you do that for?” Zayn griped, mourning over his paint job as huge stalks of corn beat onto the exterior while they mowed their way through the tall field.

“There was a cow in the road!” Niall defended shrilly, leaning the wheel left and right but not finding any way out.

“Just drive, this is fine,” Harry decided, fluffing Louis’ hair for a form of comfort that couldn't actually be administered. He made eye contact with Zayn to say that the plan was still on, and the Pakistani cracked his knuckles in anticipation, subsequently climbing out of the vehicle.

Niall and Louis were panicked and overflowing with adrenaline from the high-speed chase, but their worry quickly extended to the vampires’ safety and security instead.

“What are you gonna do?” Louis begged, whimpering when Harry got himself out of the car altogether and hopped onto the roof.

“Just keep going straight, Niall, don't stop!” Harry shouted back into the car, sparing one upside-down look at Louis and giving a sweet smile before disappearing completely.

Louis stared up at the ceiling of the car as two pairs of footsteps sounded above them, wishing he could lean out the window and ask more questions, but he knew to keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.

A loud thump suddenly landed on the backside of the car, and Louis whipped around like a rubber band to investigate, taking in the sight of Harry and Zayn crouching on top of the trunk, and piecing together what was about to happen when the chaser’s headlights reappeared out of the aimless maze of corn stalks.

Niall flinched from their drop and checked his rearview mirror, twisting his neck around to get the full picture. “Ah, what the fuck are they doing?” he cried, Louis slapping at his shoulders for getting distracted.

“Just drive, Niall. They know what they’re doing,” Louis said. He tried to say it with a vote of confidence, and while he was quite sure they did in fact know what they were doing, whether or not it would be effective was a whole other matter.

Niall whimpered and faced back around, at the precise moment that Harry and Zayn leapt off the trunk and soared through the air to go smashing through the other car’s windshield. “Jesus, what the fuck!” Louis shouted, flying into the backseats to get a closer look.

The enemy car immediately swerved and tires squealed as it veered into the field on the right, and Louis wanted to know and see the event with every fibre of his being, but he wouldn’t last two seconds, and he knew that.  

“Did they really just—”

“ _Just drive_ , Niall,” Louis interrupted, frantically jabbing his finger toward their current path of nothing but towering vegetable plants. “Do not stop for anything, do you hear me? They can take care of themselves, we can’t,” he reasoned in a lighter tone, knowing the very last thing he needed right now was Niall getting snappy and defensive about his entirely reasonable concerns.

As it were, Niall hadn’t the energy to fight Louis anymore on the subject, and he committed to driving in the straightest line he could manage, wary and mindful of the unseen edge of a fence they could potentially bash into. “How big is this fucking field?” he wheezed, turning on the windshield wipers as if that would do any measure of good in this planty mess.

Louis climbed back into the front seats after a sympathetic pat to Martin’s unconscious form that had unfortunately gotten itself lodged in-between the seats on the floor. Louis lacked the strength to pull him back onto the leather, so he had to leave him as he was, sitting down hard in his original seat and sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but I don’t think we’ll hit the end of it any time soon, this is Idaho—”

Both humans let all the breath in their lungs out at once in an identical scream of fear when two back to back smashes landed on the roof of the car.

“Louis, stop squealing,” Harry barked with exasperation, dipping into the car and getting himself in the backseat without trying to make it graceful—it just was.

“Maybe a heads-up would be nice. Remember that for next time,” Louis grumbled, spinning around to sit on his knees on his seat to peer over the headrest at the torn clothes of his lover.

“Please, I wouldn’t enjoy a repeat of this night,” Harry sighed, following Louis’ gaze and seeming to notice the tears in his clothes for the first time. “Aw man…” he muttered, pinching his shirt between his fingers and inspecting the damages.

“Zayn, are you okay?” Niall whined, having a harder time concentrating on the “road” now that the love interests were back.

“Yeah, we took care of them. Stop the car,” he said gently, not down for the sharp slam on the brakes they would all endure if he’d said it roughly.

Niall slowly rolled to a stop, relieved he wouldn’t have to be in charge of the vehicle anymore.

“What are we stopping for?” Louis piped, watching quietly as Harry and Zayn heaved Martin up to sit (with assistance) in the middle seat.

“Fixing Martin,” Harry informed, glancing around the car and frowning at the lack of variety they had. “We need to give him blood…”

“No. Niall is not going to be the guinea pig, I _just_ took him,” Zayn protested before the concept could even be brought up.

“Are you suggesting I let my soulmate go to another?” Harry bit back, the two firing weaponless gunshots between their volatile glares.

“I’m not just giving Niall to Martin,” Zayn responded in contempt, scooting over so that he was almost blocking the blonde’s body with his own.

Niall made a sudden motion like he was about to say it wouldn’t be a problem, but Louis shot him down with a glare of his own. A helpful statement like that would only piss Zayn off even more, and this agreement had to settle between the arguing vampires alone.

“Harry, we have to do this soon. We have no idea how many more are out there right now. We need Martin—” Zayn began after an uncomfortable period of silence, Harry’s sharp tone finishing the breath of the plea.

“I’ll shotgun it,” the Roman growled reluctantly. He definitely looked squeamish to do it at all, but Zayn certainly perked up at the selfless sacrifice.

“You don’t have to, I can…” Zayn assured, both immortals painfully aware that he had absolutely no interest in or desire to take on the job.

“What are you going to do?” Louis inquired, the shit-eating grin on Zayn’s face telling him that whatever would be done, it would involve the original mansion couple.

Harry grimaced and finally met Louis’ eyes, beckoning him back as Zayn geared up to take his place.

Louis shrugged and shimmied into Harry’s lap, waiting until Zayn was semi-cuddling Niall in the front to address the pensive immortal he got to call his own. “Harry...what are we doing?” he drawled, gasping when Harry carelessly shoved Martin over to leave more room for them.

“Martin’s taking your blood, but he won’t take it from you.” He paused to deliver another lung-heaving sigh. “He’ll be taking it from me.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Zayn lamented, understanding of how painful it would be to let another vampire take in your blood-partner’s essence, no matter the location of which it came from.

“It’s fine, we have to do this,” Harry snapped, guiding Louis into his arms and sighing against his neck.

Louis stayed silent and still while Harry made the final decision, and when the fangs hit his neck, he bit his lip to keep from moaning. The instantaneous reaction a bite sparks in your body isn’t really something that ever subsides, you just know what to expect...sometimes that’s even better. He gripped Harry’s torn shirt and arched into the mouth that was giving him the mind-numbing pleasure, feeling Harry warm up and giggling because the cold-hard proof of giving life _also_ never lost its fascinating luster.

Harry pulled off once he’d had enough, saving Louis from being significantly weakened when they were still in the middle of a dicey situation. He kissed his dazed love’s lips and nuzzled their noses together in gratitude, turning away and yanking Martin into his lap instead. Not an envious trade by any means, but business is business.

He tipped Martin’s head back with a strong arm around his back for support, using his free right hand to cut a line into his neck with his extended claw, and gathered a good amount of warm blood on his fingers to drip into Martin’s slightly parted lips. He held the fingers above their intended gap and waiting for the tiny drops to fall to their destination.

Two drops fell at once and Martin’s body jerked once the liquid hit his tongue, a tiny grunt exuding from his throat as he was languidly dragged out of the unreachable stupor he’d succumbed to. His eyelids fluttered, and Harry knew the desire would overtake him soon, waiting patiently for Martin to come all the way back.

Louis, Niall, and Zayn all watched with rapt and shameless attention while Martin slowly came to, but Louis was especially enamoured by the sudden clarity the butler had acquired when he snapped his eyes open. Martin seemed to suss out the precise location of the flow, and slapped Harry’s hand away as he dove in for his neck instead.

Harry made a small sound that Louis was sure he hadn’t intended to let out, but Louis already knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was one of sheer excitement and arousal. Martin’s fangs were out in an instant and he drove them deep into Harry’s flesh, explicitly moaning against his neck while Harry’s back imperceptibly arched as it rolled through an intense wave of pleasure.

Their pelvises ground together obscenely as Harry lost himself in the madness of Martin’s bite, but in lieu of the jealousy you might expect would take over Louis’ every pore, let him surprise you: he was turned on. He knew well just how addictive and orgasmic a vampire bite can get, and seeing Harry crumbling under that same ecstasy was unlocking a side to the Roman that Louis had never before had the pleasure of witnessing real-time, and he was eating it up.

Martin had taken the furthermost side of Harry’s neck, giving Louis full view of Harry’s profile, and he was exceptionally grateful for this. Harry’s neck was bent back against the seats powerlessly while Martin held a fisted hand in his hair, and Louis wasn’t jealous over the hair-touching either...he’s surprising even himself.

Harry’s lips were parted in bliss with intermittent bites to their soft surface with his own fangs, causing a nice line of blood to tease its way down his cheek, and Louis wanted to taste it so badly, but he knew that even in this near incompetent state of gratification, Harry would still manage to stop that from happening.

Both vampires in the act were doing a valiant job at keeping their hands to themselves, fighting the natural impulse to grope at prod at the other’s body for obvious reasons, but Louis almost wished they would anyway...almost. Harry couldn’t keep his moans in any longer, and he let one rip out into the semi-peaceful volume of the car’s interior, sending a rush of blood to everyone’s penis, but Zayn’s.

The Pakistani growled and righted that wrong in an instant, trapping Niall down on the front seats and taking his share before he was left out entirely. That left Louis with more privacy away from outside eyes, and he palmed at his crotch while he took in however much of the scene before him he had left.

In truth, it ended sooner than he would have wanted, but the event had indeed seen a long runtime, and they needed to sort their priorities before they were caught in the fray again. Martin flew away from Harry’s chest and knocked into the seat behind him, staring at Harry with wide eyes that spoke millions of the words he could not utter. He obviously could not believe he’d done that, and that the entire thing had actually just happened, but Harry didn’t seem to want to go any deeper than face value.

“Zayn, drive,” the Roman rasped, pushing Martin off and crawling back over to Louis. “I need more of you,” he groaned, licking up Louis’ neck and embedding himself before Louis had a chance to reply. Louis just laughed and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, opening his eyes and glancing sideways when Zayn turned the key and started the sore Camaro.

Louis vaguely heard an instruction from Zayn for Martin to get on the roof and guide their way to the main road, but his focus was back on Harry the minute Martin had given his acceptance of the task. The car turned and sped in a different direction, but the only thing that existed was Harry and his mindless endeavor for release. Louis would get Harry submissive like that someday, and that teaser trailer he’d just been gifted would not leave his memory any time soon. It solidified his ambition to turn that much more intensely. He will have Harry Styles begging on his knees and presenting his glistening hole to him eventually, mark his words.

All of the filthy thoughts in his mind spilled out over his tongue, and he needed to let some out into Harry’s ear before he exploded from the pressure of keeping them all in. “Watching you unravel like that reminded me of something,” he whispered darkly into Harry’s overly sensitive ear, feeling a shudder course through the vampire’s frame from the blatant implication. “You’ve been in charge for far too long, Harry. Turn me and I’ll put you under me all night, where a pining dormant side of you belongs.”

“Fuck!” Harry cried as he pulled his teeth out, shivering as he reached his release from the mere far-away promise of words he’d been aching to hear. “My Gods, Louis,” he roughly exhaled, a lazy smile creeping onto his face as he felt around his crotch. “You made me come,” he lilted proudly, licking into Louis’ mouth and stealing the air right from his lungs.

“You two done?” Martin asked once the Camaro was back on the paved road, hanging upside-down and peeking their tangled forms from the open window. Niall was cuddled up to Zayn, who snickered into his fist at the turn this car ride had taken in the last ten minutes.

“Not for long,” Harry said suggestively, giving Louis a quick kiss and a wink before moving over to make room for Martin’s joining. The butler soundlessly slid into his seat and kept his gaze out the window, unsure of whether to bring up what had just happened or not...he promised himself he’d do it later. Should he apologize or thank Harry or…

“We’ll talk later,” Harry said, giving him a friendly pat on the back and setting the record straight with his tone that this didn’t change anything between them. Martin looked relieved to pick up on that tone of reassurance, but he still wanted that conversation eventually, and Harry knew that too.

“So now what do we do?” Niall asked shyly, looking back at the awkward and slightly intoxicated trio that were sinking into their seats, comparing the way they looked to the way he felt.

“Now we go home,” Harry said, a strange twinge in his inflection dropping at the last word ‘home.’

“And _then_ what?” Louis pressed knowingly, peering up at Harry through his long eyelashes as he leaned into his welcoming side.

Harry smiled to himself and tilted his head down to gander at his constantly perceptive Louis, an eternity of a future hanging between them once the ancient bond to tie them together would be performed. Harry knew Louis saw every corner and crevice within his haunted mind, so it was impossible to backtrack his odd tone from before...Louis knew something was up, and Harry knew he wouldn’t care either way. As long as both of them were safe and together, anything could happen, and they’d find it just peachy. “And then we find another home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I busted up when I came up with the title of this chapter, it's so dumb xD  
> I FINALLY GET IT. Why I've been getting all the asks about Louis being a power-bottom. It's cuz he said "under me" isn't it? He meant the other way, guys. Flashback to the flashback that Hadrian forced Alexander to finally break his no-killing streak by the ship docks. Remember what happened to Hadrian that night? Yeah, that. HUMAN Louis/Alexander can't do that yet, can they?   
> Eeeeekekekek hee hee.


	5. Worse Than They Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! * GRAPHIC VIOLENCE WARNING * !!!  
>  It's fucking delicious, though ;)  
> Enter my absolute baby Harlock. And the single worst piece of news Louis' tired group has ever received. By Louis' own mouth, no less.

After a while of peaceful—as peaceful as everyone could force it to be—driving along the damaged corn field, Zayn asked the question that each occupant had swimming around in their troubled minds. “Are you sure we should be using the car? Aren't they looking for it?” he asked, refusing to glance in the rearview even once, because if he started, he wouldn't stop.

“We honestly should be running,” Martin seconded, moving his limbs engagingly like he was ready to bolt.

“No, you're still weak,” Harry scolded to his butler, ignoring the scoff that concluded his refusal. “I know you can run, but we don't know what’s ahead of us. Conserve yourself.”

“Aye,” Martin quipped before he opened the floodgates of a winless argument.

Zayn grumbled but stayed on course, retracing their path back to road that would lead them to Fortwright. They eventually got off that random highway and pulled onto Madison Avenue, driving slowly and inconspicuously through the abundant stop lights that kept pausing their retreat.

“Should we talk yet?” Louis asked, his eyes sneakily landing on Harry's face.

“No,” was Harry’s reply, his brows upset, his lips tight.

“You seem to know something important…” Louis pushed, feeding off the solid tension from all three immortals.

“We’ll talk when we can relax, and that time has not yet come. I will contact Harlock and his warlock, and if we can take shelter at their residence, we will be safe for a short while. Then I shall tell you what's happening,” Harry informed.

“Okay,” Louis said simply, wondering who the hell Harlock was, and internally appreciating the fact that Harlock and warlock rhymed...although what ‘warlock’ meant was an even more compelling mystery. Did Harry honestly mean a magical human? He’d never mentioned that those exist...unless he’d been serious with the witch-hunting statement from that truth or dare answer that seemed so long ago now. Unfortunately, that inquiry would not contribute anything helpful to their conversation at present, so he’d have to bring it up later.

“Are you sure he’ll take us in?” Zayn stressed to sate his insecurity on the subject.

“He owes me,” Harry responded, his thoughts turning to _making_ Harlock help them regardless of his personal feelings about it. Harry had lots of ways to get what he wanted; surely Harlock wouldn't want to meet those methods.

“He was the one to warn us in the first place,” Martin reminded the group, staring in contempt through the corner of the passenger window. He was still miffed about the comment to his strength, true as it may be. No immortal likes to feel inadequate. “He's involved, whether he likes it or not.”

“True,” Zayn sighed, letting go of Niall’s hand to take the wheel with it instead, propping his left elbow up on the mantle below the driver’s side window.

Niall turned around now that his physical contact had been broken, meeting Louis’ eyes and giving him a surprising smile filled with acceptance and bravery. “I'm safe with Zayn,” he said confidently. “And with Harry around, nothing can touch you,” he said, for no other reason than to bring some positivity to the whirlpool of discouragement.

“I know,” Louis said just as breezily, keeping his innermost thoughts in his head where nobody could see them. Auron couldn't touch Louis with Harry between them, that was true—he never could—but it’s not himself that Louis’ worried about. It never has been.

 

\---

 

They had passed through the slums of the mountain town in which they all resided, and were just turning onto the dirt road that weaved through the forest to the mansion when all three vampires perked up like they were canaries in a coal mine, and their location was infested with carbon monoxide.

“What do we do?” Zayn asked, slowing the vehicle to preserve the limited time they had.

“How many?” Martin asked Harry, his senses unable to rival that of the ancient immortal’s.

“I can take them,” Harry growled, his concern only stretching to the powerless humans in the car with them. “Not enough to take me down.”

“What’s going on?” Louis asked, Niall nodding fervently because he’d harbored the exact same thought.

“Ambush,” Zayn replied, speeding back up because if Harry said it was okay, then he would have to take his word for it. If Harry claimed he could take them all down himself, then the three of them combined stood at unbeatable odds against the band of intruders.

“Jesus, they’re at the mansion?” Louis squeaked, his heart rate skyrocketing in fear.

“It’s okay,” Harry comforted, smashing a kiss onto Louis’ cheek. “We can handle this. You two stay in the car,” he ordered, the recipients of that demand crystal clear even though Niall hadn’t been spared a glance. “I mean it. No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, you are not to leave this car. Under any circumstance. Until it is safe. Until we personally come to get you.”

“I promise,” Louis said tightly, relinquishing any cracks of “I can help” from his imminent bank of words. Alexander could help, not Louis. “Kill them all,” he commanded harshly, Niall’s eyes widening from his best friend’s violent resolve.

“For you, my love, the world,” Harry replied with a smirk, elated that Louis wasn’t squeamish about the concept of seeing Harry’s true, savage self at work, ripping heads off of shoulders. But then...of course Louis wouldn’t be squeamish, would he? He’d been _way_ worse back in the day.

Niall wasn’t so passionately tolerant, but he understood these vampires were the good guys, and they would be fighting the bad guys. That mentality was easy to get behind, especially since comics had given him a sturdy “righteous vs. wicked” moral compass. But that didn’t mean he was particularly eager to witness bloodshed, no matter the nobility in the cause.

“You should close your eyes,” Zayn said to Niall’s stoic profile, hoping that Louis would be the eyes for both of them if the sight was going to traumatize Niall.

“I’ll be fine,” Niall gulped, climbing into the back and sitting on Louis’ lap to give the vampires room to gather by the doors. Harry and Martin slipped over into the front seats and readied themselves for the upcoming battle, the humans scooting away to give each other meager amounts of space, staying close regardless.

They passed the creaky gate and revved up the hill, flattening out on the level ground and surveying the area. No vampires were immediately visible, but that changed the moment they parked facing the front doors, a group of easily more than thirty immortals billowing out of the estate and jumping off the stairs to crowd the yard.

“ _And_ they broke into my house?” Harry chuckled darkly, both groups of enemies suspended in a moment of stalemate. The attackers obviously knew who they were up against, and that couldn’t be comforting, but they wouldn’t forsake their honour either. One redheaded male took a step toward the car, and the hesitation was lifted on both sides, Louis and Niall’s vampires shooting out of the car doors and slamming them shut once they were outside.

From Louis’ human perspective, everything was hard to follow after that. The first vampire who had tried to make a move was the first to dash toward Harry, but one moment he was running; the next, his severed head was falling to the Earth.

“Jesus!” Niall cried as Zayn threw a short haired enemy across the front of the car, the unknown vampire soaring all the way down the hill and disappearing before apparently landing, immediately running back into the fray.

Bodies were flying and being launched in every direction, accompanied by the brutal roars and cries of battle, and Niall and Louis could only try to catch each movement with their limited eyesight. The fight was packed full with inhuman strength and speed, not to mention animalistic aggression, but even to them, it was obvious that Harry and Zayn (plus Martin) were winning.

Their fists would strike out, and enemy bones would shatter. The nameless vampires would dash forward to catch them by surprise while they were preoccupied in taking down another, but Louis’ team would in turn anticipate every move, throwing the straggler away from them as they finished off their initial target.

It didn't seem like any one of these enemies could ever get the upper-hand against Harry’s ancient self, and Louis gradually began to realize they weren't supposed to. If Auron wanted Harry dead, he would send an army of Elders to swarm the Roman brother, Elders of whom Harry would definitely break a sweat against, dead or alive. This wasn't an attempt at murder...this was a message. This was Auron letting them in on the fact that he knew exactly where they were, and he could come with said army at any time.

Louis knew that his vampires must have come to that same conclusion, and it was obvious in Harry, his frustration over being toyed with representing itself in bitch slaps he'd crack against an undesirable cheek near his hand.

Louis observed as Martin adopted a more careful and calculated demeanor, his attention dedicated to both Harry and Zayn’s enemies as they fought so he could back them up whenever necessary. A true testament to his job title.

The sight of Harry rapidly twisting skulls and ripping them from unsuspecting necks was making Louis’ mouth water, but even he knew that was a strange reaction to be having. Maybe the attractiveness was due to Harry’s bared and deadly fangs, glinting in the moonlight while he hissed and growled at the creatures that sought to do them all harm, giving him the look of an avenging angel from hell. Or perhaps it was the flexing of his muscles while he threw mighty punches and the vampires themselves, but whatever the reason, Louis was crossing his legs to hide his inappropriate boner from Niall.

As it were, Niall’s eyes were glued onto Zayn anyway, comparing the extended teeth from the gentle and magical bites he would give with them, to the tearing of his adversary’s flesh.

All three noble-caused vampires seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads, spinning around any time someone crept up behind them, and roaring in annoyance and contempt when one jumped out of their attack range. Harry zipped back and forth across the yard and pummeled the intruders, his arms coated to the elbow in black blood, the same dark substance dripping from his sharp fangs.

Before Louis could realize what was happening, a car door had opened and a vampire with black hair and thick eyebrows was leaping into the back seats to put an end to him, and both humans screeched in terror while Louis futilely tried to kick away his attacker. “The _fuck off me_ ,” he snarled while hands grabbed at his clothing, protecting Niall with his own body in a last-ditch attempt to prolong the death they’d meet from this fucker’s claws, fangs, or fists.

This had all happened in the span of a few high-strung seconds, but when two ringed hands appeared on the side of the vampire’s head, Louis knew it was officially over. The vampire screamed as the pressure on his skull increased, scrambling back when Harry pulled him away and flinging his arms to fend off Harry’s.

Harry had a moment of clarity in which he didn’t want the humans to see what he would do, and he wrangled the attacker outside the car onto the ground, Louis leaning over the seats to watch the scene anyway. Harry’s squeezing on the enemy’s head only strengthened when he was supposedly safe from view, and the vampire’s eyes gruesomely bulbed as they nearly popped out of their sockets. His strangled scream of torment etched itself into Louis’ mind, and he’ll never forget the sound of the vampire’s head when it imploded like a squashed melon, black blood spraying out in every direction, the body’s limbs twitching like they were under electro-shock therapy.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Harry grunted, kicking the car door closed and jumping back into battle. Louis stared speechless at his lover’s form that didn’t seem to tire, the savage kill of an enemy only symbolizing the need to move on to the next one.  

Niall was weeping by this point, and Louis wrapped him up in his arms, turning his eye from the fierce altercation to soothe his friend. “Shh, Niall. It'll be over soon,” he said gently, secretly peering through the windshield to continue watching.

Niall whimpered into his neck and held onto his shirt like a child, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to pretend that the outside world wasn't happening around them.

The group of instigators had wrapped around the frame of the car after one of their own had nearly succeeded in reaching the human gems inside, so everything was now harder to see. Louis knew that Martin and Zayn were posted outside the driver's side door, and Harry was fending for himself on the other one, but that was the extent of his knowledge. The only things he could discern were the fierce roars of defense from his team, and the cries of torture from the separate one.

The car began to rock back and forth as enemies flung themselves into it, desperate to break through and pluck the hot-blooded humans from their safety net. After the second crash of tough skin against metal, all contact ceased as Zayn unleashed a string of enraged curses and ripped through the young vampires like they were made of paper. Dark blood splattered across the windows like a gruesome art show, and the pained yowls that accompanied the sickening crunching and tearing sounds was enough to traumatize a war hero.

Niall and Louis ducked down in-between the seats and covered their ears, Louis’ fear returning with full force over not being able to see Harry anymore. Just when they both thought they couldn’t possibly stand one more second in their confinement, and the air was beginning to thicken in their panicking throats, the cacophony outside died like someone had pulled the plug on reality, and the doors swung open.

Louis yelped when hands attached themselves to his hips, but he felt the intends of Harry's rings on his skin, and let himself be lifted out of hiding. He said nothing as Harry eased him outside of the car, climbing into his arms and wrapping his legs around Harry's torso.

Harry gently bounced Louis up and down while he pivoted side to side, making _shh_ sounds in his ear while he gave long pats down his back, treating the shaking human like a wee baby, but it did the trick.

Louis sighed as he was sweetly coddled, his tense muscles relaxing one by one until he was a heap of gooey dead weight in his vampire’s arms, his fists on the back of Harry's collar falling away from their clenched position, arms now hanging heavily over Harry's shoulders.

“That's it,” Harry whispered, unaware that Louis was staring unblinkingly with pride at the corpses strewn across the moonlit grass. “Zayn, get Niall out and bring him inside. Stand guard while I take Louis into the shower. Martin, take care of this, would you?” he requested, gesturing with his head to the carnage on his property.

“Right away,” Martin adhered, already dragging a body around to the eastern side of the mansion.

Zayn was talking quietly to Niall, and after a bit of encouragement, Niall agreed to shut his eyes and leave the car, holding tight to Zayn as he was carried to the front doors.

Harry followed and tipped his senses on full alert as they stepped indoors, scoping the interior with sight and smell in case any remaining vampires were hiding in crevices. As luck would have it, they were alone, and Harry swept down the east wing to reach the only bathroom in the estate.

He set Louis down next to the shower and turned it on, undressing both of them as the water heated to the human’s liking. He was slowly dying from all the blood that had rushed through his system in the midst of the excitement, and by the time the shower’s temperature was prepared, his body was lifeless and cold.

Louis hissed when Harry walked him under the stream, but it was a sound of content satisfaction. The vampire immediately traded places with him and washed off all the immortal blood that clung to his skin, then wiped Louis down with a rag to erase the spots it had rubbed off onto him. They stood motionless for quite some time after that, holding each other close as the jettison beat down on them.

“I'm so sorr—”

“Bite me,” Louis interrupted, pulling back to meet Harry’s unexpectant gaze.

“You want me to bite you?” the vampire asked incredulously, his lover confounding him once again.

“Seeing you out there...fighting like that…” Louis shivered, his cock hardening from the mere memory. “You looked like a God, Harry. Touch me,” he rasped, forcing Harry's palms onto his arse and pressing down until Harry got the idea.

Harry groaned and let his hands take over independently, walking Louis up against the wall and claiming his lips in a brutal kiss, fueled by the violence he'd just enacted outside.

“Clothes are by the door!” Martin’s muffled voice called from beyond the seclusion of the bathroom, the aroused couple refusing to break, or shout out their gratitude in any way.

Harry roughly spun Louis around and mouthed at his neck, holding his wrists out and pinning them to the cold wall of the sweltering shower. The audible click of his fangs dropping send shivers down Louis’ neck, but it was the words whispered against it that set him on fire: “Spread your legs.”

Louis hissed against the tiles and complied to the delicious command, sliding his feet out to give his vampire room. With all of the craziness that had occurred tonight, a release like sex was precisely what they both needed more than anything else in the world, and he was almost sobbing for it when Harry rubbed his hole with a bar of soap for a meager form of lubrication.

“I don’t even _care_ , just hurry up,” Louis barked, jutting his hips out and forcing his arse into Harry’s pelvis.

“Shh, darling,” Harry soothed, wrapping a gentle hand around the front of Louis’ neck and nosing at his shoulder. “I need you first,” he reminded, taking the base of Louis’ neck on the inner top of his right shoulder between his teeth and breaking the skin millimeter by millimeter.

Louis groaned and squirmed under the tease Harry was forcing, his withheld desire furious that Harry was only using his teeth to give him pain without adding the drug of his tongue to the bites. “Please,” he spat against the downpour of shower water bombarding his face as he tried to meet Harry’s eyes.

He managed to twist around just enough to meet Harry’s marveling eyes out of the corner of his own, the vampire’s fangs halfway embedded as his lips somewhat formed a grin of amusement at Louis’ frustration. They were locked in a stalemate as Harry left Louis to hang from a scratchy rope with a singular blistered hand; everything Louis could ever want above, and an angry sea crashing its waves against a cliff face with jagged rocks protruding like spears from every angle below.  

Louis’ hand was slipping.

Harry saw the fight in his human reach its highest point of capacity, and he surrendered to his yearns, sinking his teeth all the way down until he was resting his gums on the tasty wet skin of Louis, lathering the whole area with the saliva from his tongue to force his endorphins inside the human’s body.

“ _God_ ,” Louis growled, his fingernails clutching at the shower wall as his head weakly fell back onto Harry’s shoulder, letting his full weight be supported as a chunk of his life source was slowly taken away for his vampire’s borrowing.

Harry’s cock began to thicken as his heart sprung to life, removing the arm he’d snaked around Louis’ midsection to grasp and guide it into Louis’ hole. He then mercilessly abused the throbbing ring of muscles of his human, jamming his way inside all at once, Louis screeching in encouragement with a painfully arched spine.

Louis was wholly appreciative of the rough treatment Harry had decided to bestow upon him this night, his inner muscles giving way to Harry’s intrusion, living for the unforgiving sting that it brought on. He met Harry’s gradual entry with backward lurches of his own, his own body swallowing the shaft as though it were starved.

Harry saved him the trouble and buried himself to the hilt, pulling his fangs out to unleash a guttural groan behind Louis’ ear. Their height difference was a great advantage to Harry, who had no problem delivering shallow thrusts into his lover while both were standing.

Louis knocked the side of his face back onto the shower tiles, his breaths coming out in short pants as Harry’s lips lied against his soaked hair. Contrast to the pelting thrusts Louis usually endured, these tiny and personal ruts of Harry’s cock within his body were driving him off a cliff of serenity. He was able to stay filled this way, and Harry’s tip was essentially giving his prostate a constant massage, the poor Louis’ knees and thighs quivering in the face of it.

“Yes, Harry. Fuck, you know how to give it to me,” he gasped, his airflow stunting as he nearly choked on the pleasure and the shower water.

“You’re gonna come like this,” Harry foretold, his nails scratching up Louis’ thighs as his hands crept together to cup and fondle Louis’ sack to stimulate its yield.

Louis wiped the water from his face and turned away from the stream, finding it much easier to breathe and see from this side as his orgasm started to introduce itself in tiny spurts of trailers. “If it’s you, Harry, I could come from a look,” he rasped, pushing back and spreading his thighs out further.

“Then look at me,” Harry said gruffly, the ecstasy coursing through his groin giving him black spots in his vision, but he fought against it with many successive blinks, determined to make them both climax as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Louis struggled to turn his neck around—it was _really_ tingly, okay?—but he managed, meeting the imposing green of Harry’s irises and getting lost in their saturation. The next few moments were some Louis would never forget; Harry’s hips sped their pace while goosebumps and shivers painted up and down Louis’ entire body, both lovers losing all memory that a world existed outside their eye contact.

It was the most riveting lock of gazes they’d ever shared with one another, each easily distracted by movements in their peripherals like lip biting and eyebrow cinching, but they refused to break the fixed stare, both pairs of eyes glimmering as they simultaneously attained their release together, maintaining the look even after they’d reached their goal.

“You’re tantalizing, Louis,” Harry breathed, finally dropping his forehead onto Louis’ shoulder and pulling out of his hole while he planted diverting kisses up his neck so he wouldn’t focus on the loss of their connection.  

As it were, Louis definitely noticed the sudden lack of Harry inside of him but he didn’t pout, too contented over their wonderful time together to find anything wrong with his empty condition. “Thank you, God of Beauty. Guess we should leave some hot water for Niall, huh?” Louis chuckled, stepping under the fall for one last rinse through as Harry shrugged and stepped out to get a towel ready for him.

“I don’t know,” Harry snickered. “If Zayn finally gets a move on, maybe Niall will be heated enough.”

 

~~~

 

Niall had been deposited onto the couch, where he’d stayed and made increasingly smaller small-talk with Zayn as they waited for Harry and Louis’ return, trying to ignore or at least avert his eyes from the blood stains on the vampire’s clothing.

Zayn was quiet and pensive anyway, racking his brain for what the next step would have to be. Apparently they were going to the infamous Harlock’s mansion, but would they really be safe there? What about after? What would happen to his fish?

“Zayn, you're next. Take Niall into the shower,” Harry announced with a cozy looking Louis under his arm, shaking his hair dry with his free hand.

Niall finally snapped back into the present when that was dropped onto his plate, and he looked to his best friend imploringly. “The shower?” he squeaked, covering his upper body with his arms. “But Zayn and I have never…”

“Please, Niall,” Harry said patiently, though it was clear that his supportive mood could drop like a piano from the fourth story of a building in a cartoon. “We don't have the time for nerves. I hope you now understand the delicate position we are all in.”

“I understand,” Niall said submissively, bravely taking Zayn’s hand and leading him to the bathroom even though he didn't know where it was. He assumed Zayn would take over.

Harry fell into the couch and called for Martin, his butler running in from the front yard and heeding to his side. “What's happening out there? The fire’s out I smell?” he asked, sniffing the air once more and scrunching his nose at the scorched aroma that penetrated his nostrils.

As it were, it was so strong that Louis could smell it too, and he was just as curious. “What fire?” he asked innocently, Martin's eyes shifting to Harry to see if he should actually answer.

“Martin burned the bodies,” Harry informed bluntly, unapologetic to how gross that may sound.

“Smart,” Louis said with approval, idly twirling a lock of his hair around his fingers.

“It's been taken care of,” Martin assured, an uncharacteristic darkness in his eyes and tone of voice. Martin wasn't generally a furious immortal, but this was one of the times wherein his volatile anger held the reins. He'd been incapacitated while his master and Zayn were diligently fighting the enemies in the club, and he feels worthless because of it. Even getting somewhat even on the mansion grounds had done nothing to sate his desire for vengeance.  

“It wasn't your fault,” Harry said, picking up on where his butler’s thoughts were dwelling.

“I should have been there,” he immediately negated, retracting his fangs when they shot out instinctively.

“Martin, enough! I won’t hear of it. You did the best you could, I don’t need your regretful wallowing right now,” Harry said coldly, wishing they had the time to be more thoughtful of each other’s feelings.

“Apologies,” Martin quipped, stalking off to the kitchen to get his overdue intake of blood. Sure, he may have had Louis’ vicariously through Harry, but that had left him with an odd taste in his mouth, and he wanted his classic glass of it.

Harry turned to Louis once Martin retreated to the kitchen to sulk in private, taking Louis’ hand and walking over to the stairs.

“What are we doing?” Louis asked, quickening his pace up the steps to match Harry’s stride.

“Packing,” Harry sighed, running through what he wanted and what he _needed_ in his mind so he could reconcile the two.

Louis hummed in understanding and walked briskly up staircases and down hallways to the mirror room, lighting a candle for himself when they got below the trapdoor, because it was clear that Harry was far too sidetracked to remember trivial things such as a human’s poor eyesight. He followed Harry’s tense back down the spiral steps, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

Once on the floor of the basement, Louis got to work at once, gathering every article of clothing that belonged to him and a making a pile near the far wall so he could scoop it all up into his arms when he was done. He had to forgo collecting all his shoes out of practicality, save for his dastardly red, white, and blue striped Adidas Americanas.

The thought of his Mother picking these up for him at the mall sparked a flash of her smiling face behind his eyes, and he blinked back tears as he slipped them on. What would become of her if he couldn’t even stay in town without endangering her further? If Auron was watching, he couldn’t go see her, because she could be become a target...but how can he just leave?

“Harry…” he said, catching the busy Harry in the midst of pillaging his old stacked boxes.

“Yeah?” he asked distractedly, shoving random things in a bag and then heading straight for the money chest, sifting through the contents to see if any of it was usable. Mostly just crusty and discontinued Italian money, but it was worth a shot.

“If I leave my Mother, my Father might do terrible things to her,” he whimpered, Harry dropping his pack to cross the room and take Louis in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” he said sadly, squeezing for a moment before letting go and returning to his packing duties. “I really hate to say this, but Auron would do worse,” he confessed, upending a box of letters and seeing what they even were because he’d long since forgotten. “Is her life in immediate danger?” he asked, hating to put someone as important as Louis’ Mother on the backburner, but Louis didn’t have the full perspective on who they were dealing with, occasional past visions disregarded.

“... No,” Louis said truthfully, hardly considering a life of abuse any better than avoiding death. Troy’s not a killer, he's just an angry sack of shit.

“Then we’ll have to save her when we return,” Harry compromised, sweeping all the jewelry off his side table into the steadily thickening travel bag.

Louis set aside all the clothes that were his, and dejectedly fell to his butt upon the bed while he waited for Harry to finish. “We’re coming back?” he asked the flittering vampire, following him with his eyes as he scurried from one side of the basement to the other.

“Of course we are. We need to lie low for a while, but Auron is not running me out of my own home forever. I’ve lived here for two-hundred years, I’m not just leaving it behind. I have people who will more or less look after it while I’m gone, and when we win this fight, we’ll come back. I promise,” he said firmly, turning in a circle to see if he’d missed anything.

Louis only stared because he didn’t know what to add, and the next time he blinked, he was looking down at his feet, absentmindedly playing with his shoelaces and retying them because _you know why_. He then caught sight of Mr. Snuffles lying innocently by his pillow, and he cradled the little guy in his arms, crushing his forehead against his fluffy belly and mourning over simpler times.

“Louis?” Harry whispered, suddenly kneeling directly in front of him and giving him every speck of his attention.

“I’m fine,” Louis sniffled, wiping his nose with his brown, long-sleeve shirt and settling the teddy bear onto the mattress, tucking him under the covers for the long nap ahead of him.

“It’s not forever,” Harry reminded, taking Louis’ face with both hands and forcing their gazes to befriend one another.  

“ _We_ are, I hope,” Louis said offhandedly, allowing Harry to get him on his feet and shake off the weakness he’d just displayed.

“This time, yeah,” Harry said with a loving smile that could leave Cupid out of a job, throwing his bag over his shoulder and picking all of Louis’ clothes up so he didn’t have to. “Where’s your bag?” he asked, moving things along because they still didn’t have the time to cool down yet.

“In Zayn’s room,” Louis replied, realizing after he’d said it that the room hardly belonged to Zayn, but he had been its last tenant, so the meaning was clear enough.

“Got it,” Harry said, turning before they walked up the stairs and sighing into the familiar comfort of his basement, hating to leave it behind, but like he said to Louis...they’d be back.  

They emerged into the mirror room as one, Louis reaching back to flip the trapdoor over because Harry’s hands were full (like that would stop him). He fixed the rug over it and everything, hiding it as best he could with the opinion that nobody else in the world besides Harry, Martin, and himself deserved to know the location of that safe haven.

They made their way to the second story, and Harry kicked the guestroom door in before Louis could get to the handle, tossing Louis’ clothes onto the bed and leaning against the door jamb to quietly watch Louis as he moved about.

Louis fondly rolled his eyes and bent down to pull his suitcase out from under the bed where he’d pushed it after that first night, taking note of all the things he’d failed to transfer into the basement, but finding them all useless pieces of junk anyway. Who needed a yo-yo where they were going? Wherever that was…

He diligently threw useful things into his case, calling it quits when it was decently loaded up with extra clothes and one extra pair of shoes just to be careful, gladly ignoring all his school supplies. After he’d zipped the suitcase shut, he let Harry lift it and carry it down to the first floor, where Niall and Zayn had reappeared and were in much the same position, but unfortunately without a heap of their belongings on them.

Louis waddled straight for his backpack as Harry made a quick stop to the kitchen telephone, probably to call this illustrious Harlock of his, and dumped all his heavy textbooks onto the cultured rug, only plucking his music notebook from the messy pile he’d created. He turned it over in his hands while he considered his next idea, subsequently shuffling into the music room to enact the sudden plan.

He took all the music sheets from the rack and haphazardly shoved them into the middle of his notebook, reemerging to the front room and adding it in with the rest of his clunky red suitcase’s contents, furthermore flattening his emptied backpack and pushing it down on top of everything else, zipping the thing shut one last time and standing to wordlessly say he was ready, just as Harry returned from the kitchen with a slightly relieved look on his face.

“What do we do about the blood?” Martin asked from the archway Harry had passed him under, seeming to be somewhat over his previous bout of moodiness.

“Er...we leave it,” Harry decided; a few months ago, that blood would have been at the top of his priority list, but with Louis willingly under his fangs any time he wanted him, things were different.

Martin was admittedly irritated because Zayn and Harry both had walking, talking drugs to keep them doped up, which left him with nothing for the road, but he didn’t let his disappointment crowd their company. He didn’t _need_ the high, and he wasn’t going to whine and bitch about being left out. They had much more urgent matters at hand.

“We’ll get you blood at some point, I promise,” Harry assured, looking everyone up and down to ensure they were as prepared as possible.

“We’re ready,” Zayn confirmed, rubbing at Niall’s upper arm while he rested his cheek on top of his blonde, shampoo-scented hair.

“Alright...let’s go,” Harry sighed, sounding like he wanted to find more reasons to stay, but they needed to make a move now, or they’d only be procrastinating the inevitable...not to mention necessary.

They all stepped out into the icy night air and hurried across the yard to reach the dented car, Zayn groaning low in his throat as he finally got a good look at the damage. Luckily the doors still opened without struggle, and that was the most they could ask for, given the circumstances.

The humans and Martin piled into the back, leaving Harry and Zayn to be pilot and co-pilot of the journey. Zayn turned the key and let his battered Camaro stretch its inner mechanisms awake, making a small three-point turn to face the hill and commence the slow roll down its decline.

Harry stared hard at his furthering mansion in the side mirror, and Louis sensed the bittersweet vibes emanating from his lover’s troubled eyes. He snuck his arms around the headrest from his spot directly behind him, and massaged Harry’s shoulders as if it made a difference.

It may not have released any tension from the vampire’s shoulders, but it did lift his spirits, and he covered Louis’ hands with his own, explaining to Zayn what the first step would be after reaching the main road. He then reached forward and shockingly turned the radio on, letting the soft and sensual tones of The Delfonics’ _Didn’t I (Blow Your Mind This Time)_ waft through the diminishing anxiety-riddled atmosphere of the group who hadn’t asked for any of this.

The song worked as a lubricant on their muscles that were all locked in hard clenches, each creature gradually slouching into their seats and turning their gazes to the outside world, save for Zayn who was busy concentrating on the road. Harry routinely gave his directions when turns needed to be made, and Niall had quietly sung along to almost every song that had played from the staticky radio, the car ride almost able to pass for a fun and carefree roadtrip, as opposed to the desperate ride to safety it really was.

After a gnawingly long amount of time, and a short nap Louis had placed somewhere in the midst of their travels, Harry announced they were nearing the road that led to Harlock’s, and because Louis had dozed off, he had no idea what town, or even county they had rode into. The area looked world’s nicer than anywhere in a twenty mile radius of Fortwright, and that was good. Rich meant safe; rich meant heavily guarded. Everybody knew that.

Louis twisted his back both ways to revel in the washboard-like pops that shot down the length of his spine, as Zayn made that final turn in their drive. Louis stifled a yawn and peered around Harry’s headrest to stare out the front windshield, realizing with a start that when Harry had said “road that led to Harlock’s,” he literally hadn’t meant anything else. This expansive road led _only to_ the gargantuan mansion at the end of it, the size of the building doubling that of Harry’s quiet little abode by comparison, and they were still decently far away from its intimidating stature.

The closer they neared, the harder it was to see the top, like the mansion had eaten a mushroom from Alice in Wonderland and was simply growing in size before their very eyes. Louis gulped from the back seat, and Niall joined shortly thereafter.

Harry seemed petulant to need the assistance of another Elder, but at least glad to have made it here with everyone in whole pieces—save for the vampires’ pride, of course.

“Alright, here we go,” Harry said as Zayn parked the car randomly in front of the royal castle of a house, all occupants hopping out and searching the building for a sign of acceptable entry.

Just then, a typically tall and lanky Elder male with mid-length, dark brown, semi-wavy and layered hair, and a delicately smooth face ambled out from the over-styled entrance of the mansion, dressed like a million bucks and sporting a black, leather eyepatch over his left eye, the remaining globe an attractive almond shape with an amused brow arched above it. “Harry Fucking Styles,” he lilted as any old friend would, his deep and sugary voice wrapping around the teasing words, smashing the Roman’s back after pulling him into his chest, using a highly familiar embrace for an initial greeting. Louis wondered just where and how these two met, and what their stories were. They obviously had a history.

“Harlock,” Harry sighed pleasantly, returning the tight hold and stepping away to introduce the rest of their group. “I think you may have met Martin once, but this is Zayn, and his human, Niall. Then _this_ is my human soulmate, Louis,” he announced with a helpful point to each, saving his biggest and brightest smile for Louis, beckoning him forward into the shine of the porch lights.

“It’s a pleasure, all of you. And my, my, you wouldn’t have deserved anything less than this specimen of perfection,” said the new player in the ever so changing game of Louis’ life, praising him so knowingly that Louis couldn’t possibly conjure any form of intelligent response.

“Uh… Please, don’t bow! I’m just a human, I don’t—”

“No human of Harry’s could be _just_ a human, my child,” Harlock said with a wink, shifting his attention when he realized he was ignoring the other creatures in his presence. “And I’m sure Zayn would not choose rashly either. Come, let’s get you all inside. The sun will be up soon, and you’d best be in bed before then,” he said kindly, holding an arm out toward his front doors in a silent invitation.

Harry, Zayn, and Martin took care of the bags and ushered the humans in first, the whole party pausing once they’d crossed the threshold so Harlock could give the next instruction, _and_ so they could gawk at the interior that Louis won't even try to describe until he's gotten some sleep.

The master of the estate called beyond them for some unseen presence to “move the car,” and then closed his gaudy front doors to the outside world. He smiled at the clueless visitors as he led the unlit way down a spotless hall to a random door on the right, opening it without unleashing an angry creak of its hinges, and stepping aside to let the group file in.

It was a windowless bedroom with only one King-sized mattress (that unfortunately _wasn't_ on the floor), but Harlock quickly explained before someone could protest to a proposed all-night cuddle puddle.

“A pair of you can take this room, the one across from it will serve for another, and Martin you would prefer the room one door down,” he said, pushing some stranded locks of hair back behind his left ear.

“We’ll head over in a bit. Got some conversations to handle first,” Zayn yawned, lightly tickling Niall’s scalp.

“Understood. Come find me in my study when the sun sets, and we will figure out what all to do with this unprecedented happenstance,” he said tiredly yet sweetly, sticking around in case anyone had an extra request.

“Thanks for doing this, Harlock. We’ll see you then,” Harry said with unmissable gratitude, his friend winking his response and closing the door behind him.

Louis wrung his hands together until everyone was more or less situated, with him and Harry sat upon the pillowy soft comforter, Zayn and Niall huddled together on an adjacent loveseat, and Martin leaned against one of the fancy poles at the foot of the bed, extensions of the intricate headboard framing the top.

When all the focus was directed at him, and comfortable positions had been acquired, Louis spoke; a single word spoken straight into Harry’s guilty eyes that was not to be ignored, no matter how unattainable it may be to garnish a simple and speedy explanation. He had to start somewhere.

“Talk.”

When nothing was immediately said, Louis tried again, attempting to narrow his questions down so that the vampires would have an easier time getting it all out. “What happened at the club?” he asked, looking to each immortal individually to signal an explanation could come from any of them, just _someone_.

“A fucking catastrophe,” Martin groaned to the ceiling, sliding down the pole until he was sat on the floor in a frustrated heap.

“Martin…” Harry warned, giving his butler a sidelong glance that was chock-full of disapproval that you generally only find from a kindergarten teacher when a toddler students steals another’s crayons. “Louis, I’m not entirely sure what that all meant...but here’s what happened,” he began, shifting back so he was propped up by the hall, stretching his legs out on the comforter while Louis picked a spot in the middle of the bed to sink into. “We went down to the V.I.P lounge, and got a plethora of disconcerting looks—”

“By that he means smirks and glares,” Zayn butted in, Louis nodding, but turning back around when Harry continued as though Zayn hadn’t said a word.

“It certainly put me on edge, because the first time I went with Zayn, nothing like that had happened. But this time was clearly different, and I knew that the second I stepped in there. I saw two vampires leave through a back door, and when Zayn and I tried to stop them, we were attacked—”

“By like every single immortal in there! And plenty more came barreling into the area. They were damn good fighters, and some of them were older than me,” Zayn interrupted again, his passion raising the volume of his voice with every word.

“Obviously something was fucking wrong,” Harry grumbled in agreement, both vampires still fuming over being so intensely blindsided. “Especially when that damn _bartender_ came in and blocked the exit with that large group. Whatever that was, the whole damn club was in on it,” he growled, his natural drive to enact vengeance on his betrayers carving a deep line of indecisiveness down his middle, his two apparent choices clashing together like storm clouds to create thunder: to go kill every sentient being in the club, or stay here and keep everyone out of excess trouble. He’d have to take the responsible grandpa route with this one and stay put, but the Gods knew how hard it was for Harry to do that.

Zayn had been recounting all the events from the club, and he eventually scoffed and threw his arms up in the air, startling Niall who had evidently been lost in his own thoughts as well. “Once we saw they were blocking the only way to the bathroom, we got sloppy. Tried to get past them, but everything was happening so fast, and they kept bloody multiplying.”

“That’s when I smelled him,” Harry said, each ominous shadow in the room appearing to flock to his frame and visibly darken his every feature. “Auron. I knew my brother had gotten to you...and I about lost my damn mind,” he gritted between clenched teeth, darting forward and gathering Louis into his arms because he very well could have lost him tonight, and it was honestly staggering that he hadn’t.

“We finally got past the group and broke through the door,” Zayn resumed, steering them back to the necessary details of the event before Harry would need to be physically held down to keep from fleeing back to Brimsville, “but there were immortals, _skilled immortals_ , covering every square inch of the staircase. We fought our way up and saw Martin lying on the floor—”

“Which I still need to ask you about…” Harry mentioned, studying his butler with narrowed eyes.

“—And you kinda know the rest,” Zayn finished, scratching at his chin while he thought of any more important things to cover. “We got through the bastards and into the bathroom, by which point Auron had already left. Niall and Martin were down for the count, so we got you guys into the car, and then the great cornfield debacle came to pass,” he added, nuzzling into Niall’s side to wordlessly apologize for allowing him to be batted around by Harry’s brother.

“Martin, what the hell happened to you?” Harry demanded, that inexplicable deviation from all known reality taking precedence in his mind because he despised the things he didn’t understand and should.

“You had sun sickness,” Zayn said dubiously, watching Martin’s face for any signs of shock, and raising his eyebrows when he found none. “The whites of your eyes were as red as blood...how the fuck did that happen?”

Martin sighed heavily and shook his tangled blonde hair, combing through it with his fingers and pushing it away from his face. “This is going to sound insane…” he warned, turning to speak his confession to Harry because he was the only one here he belonged to. “But they shined direct sunlight right into my face.”

Zayn and Harry were silent for a few elongated breaths, simultaneously rasping out a hoarse, “What?”

“I can’t put it any other way,” Martin groaned, recalling the blast of blinding light that had done him in. “I watched you two go into the V.I.P, then I was fucking swarmed from every angle. They had...what looked like a flashlight, but it was the fucking _sun_. I went down before I could even do anything. The next thing I knew, I was drinking Louis’ blood out of Harry.”

Louis pondered the worrisome facts Martin had disclosed, resting his knuckles against his lips as he thought it over. “UV light?” he guessed.

“Ultraviolet in someone’s pocket is kind of ridiculous,” Martin negated, upset he couldn’t lay down the truth, because it was shrouded in puzzling mystery. “Plus, this wasn’t a blacklight. Those are annoying, not fucking murderous. This was pure, unadulterated sunlight. Brighter than any artificial light humans have invented. It was the real thing.”

“That’s...this is not good,” Harry said shakily, a whole new world of potential weaponry suddenly opening up and threatening their dependable way of life.

“No, it’s not,” Zayn agreed, his head knocking against the back of the couch while Niall rested his hand in the middle of the vampire’s chest. “Sunlight in the dark of night,” he scoffed defiantly, the sheer nerve of the contraption pissing him off. They should not have to worry about something so preposterous. “There goes our fucking security.”

Louis’ face fell as he took in the hopeless looks coming from the practically invincible immortals surrounding him, altering the course of the conversation to something more useful so the vampires wouldn’t fall any deeper into their brewing pits of despair. “So we know what happened...any idea _why_?” he asked.

“... Not sure,” Harry responded eventually, unbuttoning his shirt and letting the sides slide down his chest because he would be undressing soon for sleep. “Aside from the obvious fact that Auron is Auron, how I didn’t know he had his clutches on the _Sharp Tongue_ is beyond me. He’s in control here. That was Auron’s fucking club, I… Something’s going on here, and I can’t figure out what! I don’t—”

“Okay, okay,” Louis immediately soothed, forcing a calming effect on the easily riled Roman. “It’s okay for now. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, of course. It won’t be a mystery forever.”

“Shit, that’s how they found your mansion,” Zayn suddenly said, his voice tinged with a shame that the Pakistani rarely ever let seep through the cracks of his confidence. “I’m the connection. Once I originally took you there, they must have started tracking me. Shit, I’m so sorry, Harry,” he mourned, covering his face with his hands and batting Niall’s well-intended comforts away as though he were a flitting mosquito.

“Zayn, please don’t. You wouldn’t have been able to ward them off your tail even if you’d known. And that’s not an insult to your skill either, it’s a testament to their determination. This is between my brother and I; nothing is going to stop him, and nothing is going to stop me. We’ll both go to the ends of the Earth to take the other down, and that’s how it’s going to have to be. It’s how it’s always been.”

“You’ll win,” Louis declared lovingly, slapping his hands on Harry’s face to command recognition. “We will win this time. Auron and Azazel don’t stand a chance. Not now that I’ve returned,” he pledged, backtracking and thinking over his last words. _What did I just say?_

Harry convulsed and shot right off the bed like he’d been launched from a cannon, staring down at Louis as if he’d just recited the meaning of life, stumbling backward while the force of Louis’ words relentlessly shoved him in the chest. “What do you know about Azazel?” he choked, his eyes filling to the brim with fear and devastation.

“I...I don’t know, Harry. Who is that?” Louis asked, sliding off the duvet and approaching his lover, cringing when the vampire warily scooted away from his advance like a frightened animal. “Harry, who is that?” he tried again, registering he’d probably just uttered the most perplexing and impossible statement yet.

Harry’s face underwent a myriad of emotions, all oozing with power, and each setting Louis closer to the edge of an endless cliff, one of which if he toppled over the precipice, nothing would ever rescue him. Does he even want to know the identity of this person? If something or someone had the unthinkable ability to terrify Harry, it wasn’t a force that Louis ever wanted to encounter in his life.

Finally, Harry shook himself from his stupor and wrung his hands together, almost submissively bowing his head as he let them all in on the secret dangling in the stuffy air; a secret that not even Alexander should have known. “My maker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AZAZAZAZAZAZAZEEELLLLLLL. FUCK.  
> THE SNITCH WAS REVEALED IN THIS CHAPTER. The whole club was involved, but someone called Auron first. Did you catch who it is?


	6. The Eyepatch And The Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolute worst at naming chapters, literally. I can't fucking be trusted xD  
> This chapter has some of my best work in my personal opinion. There's a smexy scene in here that I wrote at 5 in the morning after being sleep-deprived for over 24 hours, and I just put everything I had into it. It is the most teasing, infuriating shit ever. Something about white flags and dismantled shores, I'm sure you'll pick up on it.

Louis paled. Even though he’d been the one to subconsciously say it, the very word “maker” chilled him to the bone. The Elder immortal, superior in age to the two-thousand-year-old Harry, who had bestowed his own everlasting life onto the human version of Hadrian. The vampire who had preyed upon him in that Gaul dungeon and trained him to slaughter innocent people, cursing him to a life of stagnant death.

“Your maker is involved in all of this?” Zayn asked in a high-pitched whine, dreading every catastrophe that would come their way due to that unfortunate coincidence.

“I...didn’t know,” Harry said gravely, a sudden wave of exhaustion weighing his body down like a metric ton of bricks—apparently the sun was up. “I need sleep. I can’t think about this right now. This can’t be real, I can’t—” he trailed, tiptoeing over to the bed and getting himself under the covers in a daze.

“Yeah, but wait...who is this maker? What are we up against?” Zayn pushed, desperate to extract any and all information from the ancient Roman who had it all at his disposal.

“... He’s an opponent I don’t think I can overcome,” Harry admitted with a wavering tremble in his tone, looking down at his hands and waging the concept of using them to tear his maker’s head off. Could he even begin to try? Vampires were hard-pressed to disobey orders from their makers, and he remembers how effortless it was for Azazel to control him when he got out of line. It’s the same superiority of which he could use to bring Martin to his knees, though he had too much respect to stoop to such a level. “If Azazel is our enemy...and in league with my brother...this is worse than I could have possibly imagined. My maker is a monster; a demon that could have risen straight from the depths of hell if such a place existed.”

“How old is he?” Martin wondered, trying not to let his paralyzing fear splatter itself onto the question. Maybe Harry would have a hard time taking him on, but if they were around the same age, the three of them together could possibly stand a chance.

“He was ancient when he turned me,” Harry said pointedly, that simple sentence independently explaining the gravity of the situation. “Azazel is one of the first vampires to walk this Earth. He’s been here since the beginning...he’s an original. Legend recites he didn’t have a maker of his own, and I’m inclined to believe it. My time with him validated that theory...he’s fucking petrifying,” he said, an uncommon shudder rattling his spine.

Zayn’s distress swirled deep in his gut, his cold skin getting colder as his vision narrowed in on a scuff of dirt on the floor. An original vampire. One of the first. That chilling concept sounded like a death sentence to them all, no matter how you put it—an inescapable oblivion looming within their futures, with no fleeting hope of avoidance. “What can we do?”

Harry laughed at the stupidity of Zayn’s question, the sharp sound slapping all of them in the face. He appeared almost manic now, his unnerving cackles destroying every blip of faith they were each desperately clinging to.

“Run,” Harry stated when he’d calmed down enough to do so. “Run as fast and far as we can. Never ever stop running, and fucking pray he doesn’t find us.”

Niall and Louis’ consequent tears were silently running down their faces now, and they both hugged their middles to guard themselves against the dead-ended solution to this massive nightmare of a obstacle. The strongest and most reliable vampire they knew was in despondent shambles, and he was the only one on the planet who could have had an answer.  

Martin stifled what would be an extremely ill-timed yawn and pushed off the floor, debating if he should add anything to the numbed and stoic Harry or not. He decided against it and gave a parting look of something akin to sympathy and gutting concern to Louis, and swept out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind him because Zayn and Niall would be following.

“We’ll...we’ll talk about this later,” Zayn said tensely, standing from his seat with his human under his arm and hesitating before exiting the room, relaying Harry’s confessions and biting his lip. “Sleep well, you two,” he fumbled, Niall’s wide eyes locked onto Louis’ until he had to turn around. Yes, they would _definitely_ all be talking about this later.

“‘Night,” Louis replied in a tiny and meek voice, eyeing Harry as Niall and Zayn carefully closed the door. “Harry…” he began, his hands finding their way to Harry’s icy ones and giving them a commanding squeeze. “Harry, please look at me.”

Harry took a while to carry out Louis’ request, and when he finally met those mismatched eyes that held his damaged heart, his withheld emotions spilled out of his own, coating his cheeks with salty, distraught tears. “I can’t protect you,” he sobbed, crushing Louis in a hold that could have killed him if he hadn’t held his strength back. “Not against Azazel...I can’t save you from this,” he continued, shamefully discarding every ounce of pride he harbored in his whole being, pouring all of it into his heartbreaking cries. He didn’t need pride anymore; he didn’t deserve it.

“Harry, we’re going to...we’re going to do something. I don’t know what, but...Harry, you can’t give up. You _can’t_. You’re my rock, my foundation. I certainly can’t do this on my fucking own, and we need to come up with something together. I hope I’ll be able to remember everything I clearly need to, maybe there’s more to this that we just don’t know yet, I…” He cut off his useless rambling when he realized he wasn’t getting through to his lover at all. He opted instead for a reciprocation of Harry’s embrace, allowing his Roman to display all the crushing weakness taking him over that Louis honestly never thought he’d see.

“You don’t understand, Louis. No creature alive or dead is a match for me. _Except that one_. Except for Azazel. He could crush me, what the fuck am I supposed to say to you? Not to worry? Louis, this is the absolute worst outcome that could have happened. There’s no way out of this—”

Louis shocked both of them by slapping Harry hard across the face, probably doing more damage to his tingling palm in the process, but the action luckily succeeding in shutting Harry up. “Stop it! Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll plan tomorrow. Lie down,” he snapped as he shoved Harry onto his back, thankful that the vampire had let it happen. He then flicked off the lamp and plunged the room into darkness, stumbling over to the bed and situating himself on Harry’s seemingly hollow chest.

“I just found you…” Harry reiterated in an anticipatedly demoralized fashion, snaking his arms around Louis’ back and holding him close, breathing in the delicious scent from his hair and closing his eyes when it miraculously acted as a small form of sedation.

“And you’ll keep me,” Louis swore in spite of everything that apparently sought to delegitimize that. “I’m not going anywhere. Besides, you’re wrong about one thing. I’m the one that found you. Nobody’s taking you from me, you mark my fucking words. Go to fucking sleep,” he grumbled, searching around for Harry’s lips with his own and planting a kiss to their softness when he found them.

Harry passionately responded to the kiss and rolled them over, burrowing his face into Louis’ neck and allowing himself to be shushed and coddled for once. Louis had no idea what he was talking about, but if all they had for certain was right now, then he’d let the human remove the pain of their impending doomsday. Harry had broken the moment he’d heard his maker’s accursed name, but tonight, he’d let Louis put the pieces back together. He could completely shatter when the sun went back down.

 

\---

 

Louis was startled awake by a bombardment of harsh jabs to his body. He opened his eyes and quickly rolled over, flailing his arms out to stop the mindless swinging of Harry’s. Clearly the vampire was stuck within the determined clutches of a nightmare, and his surroundings in reality—mainly Louis in such close proximity—were paying the ultimate price.

“Harry!” he rasped, slapping at his lover’s chest with little hope of actually freeing him from the cage of his unconscious mind. He’d been able to save Harry from a nightmare once before, but that had only been due to the sun already setting. For all Louis currently knew, the sun could still be high in the sky, and if so, he would be rendered wholly unable to help.

Harry thankfully stilled his sporadic movements, but just as Louis was warily lying back down to resume his suspended slumber, pained whimpers incessantly escaped his ancient lover’s throat instead, and pressing his pillow over his ears would do nothing to liberate Louis from being forced to listen to the depressing sounds...not to mention that would also be neglectful as shit. “Dammit,” he muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and planting his feet onto the chilly floor, using his hands and feeling around the fluffy mattress to navigate the room and try to find that lamp he’d turned off earlier.

It took a few daring outstretches of his arms, but he eventually found the lamp in question, sliding his fingers up the length of its stalk and flicking the humming bulb on, squeezing his eyes shut when the sudden brightness it dispensed assaulted his retinas; a harsh luminosity that blatantly reminded him of Martin’s sun light tale from the club. _Heh. Sunlight sun light_.

He shifted his dotted vision to Harry’s restless form and sighed with regret that he couldn’t offer any immediate relief. He backed his way to the edge of the room and cracked the door open just a smidge, looking both ways as though he were about to cross the street, and slipping through the opening.

He walked down the hallway they’d taken to arrive and entered the sparkling living room, heading straight to the light-blocking curtains to check the time of day. He pushed one heavy drape to the side and squinted out the window, glad to find the sun was in its setting process. This meant that Harry could potentially be roused in just a short while, and Louis turned on his wheel to march back to his room when an unnoticed presence made him jump out of his skin.

There on the luxurious red and gold couch that decorated the far wall of the room, sprawled out suggestively as though he were getting painted by his sensual artist lover, and covered in a sea of freckles, was a barely clothed, youthful and gorgeous redheaded human male, spinning a long tie of his robe around his fingers while he curiously looked Louis up and down. “So you’re Harry’s partner…” he mused, his lazy sprawl snapping to attention when he sat up and leaned forward with delicately exposed elbows rested on his knees.

Louis stepped carefully across the glorious expanse of the white-everything living room, stopping just behind an intricately framed chair and using its back to hold himself up. He’d never quite felt so nervous in the presence of another human before, but there was something... _more_ about this one. “I take it you’re Harlock’s?” he guessed intelligently, his eyes following the hand of the human that traveled up and ruffled his messy hair over to hang down his left side.

“I am. His one and only for now,” the dazzling redhead replied, the low resonation of his voice having a surprisingly calming effect. It made Louis want to stick around and listen to it more, but didn’t he have something to do? Wasn’t something else more important at the moment?

“For now?” he asked in response, cocking his head to the side when the boy snickered into his forearm.

“I’m not exactly immortal, am I? Prolonging my given time doesn’t mean I have an unlimited amount.”

Louis nodded as though that had been an acceptable answer, but it really hadn’t been, and his attempt at a relatable exterior cracked as such. “Okay, I don’t get it,” he admitted.

“You wouldn’t. I’d have been surprised if you had,” the boy replied, the knowing and dimpled smirk he’d worn since their first moment of eye contact finally falling away into a more personable expression. “I come from a gifted family,” he informed, as if that helped Louis’ confusion at all.

“What do you mean ‘gifted’?” Louis pressed, that tiny mention snagging at his subconscious like a shirt stuck in a vacuum. _Harlock and his warlock._

“Just what I said. Gifted. My name’s Jenner. Jenner Cromwell,” the boy spoke softly, shifting his gaze to the door mere seconds before it opened, and Harlock came striding into the house.

Louis blanched, his mind doing backflips while he tried to rationalize an immortal in the daylight. “You were outside?” he squeaked, looking between the regal Harlock and his unreadable lover with a stunned expression plastered on his features.

“Good evening, Louis,” Harlock said with a polite smile, crossing the room and taking a comfortable seat next to Jenner, who curled into him and sighed against his chest.

“You were outside,” Louis repeated in lieu of any kind of greeting, unable to rest until he’d learned what the hell had just happened.

“Compliments of my warlock,” Harlock said fondly, resting his cheek against Jenner’s and nuzzling it like a cat.

“But how is it possible?” Louis asked eagerly, the pair’s shameless reveling in their mystery and how it affected their guest pinching a nerve in Louis’ amicable personality.

“It’s complicated, young one,” Jenner responded with a particular glint in his eye, holding strong to his resolve of being purposefully ominous.

“Young one? You’re what, twenty?” Louis fired back, crossing his arms in distaste of Jenner’s condescending attitude.

“Seventy two,” Jenner corrected, biting his lip to keep from grinning from Louis’ deadpan.

“Wow…” Louis praised, his wide eyes pointedly studying Jenner for a second time, scoping the somehow elderly human’s features for any cracks in his young skin. “Foxiest geezer _I’ve_ ever seen.”

Harlock busted out a short cackle at the blunt statement, patting Jenner on the back and hiding his forehead in his free hand as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “A fine wine, this one,” he said toward his lap, raising his head and sparing a loving glance at his partner before meeting Louis’ eyes. “Harry seems to be in distress,” he then mentioned, the muffled groans of his friend easily reaching his hyper-sensitive ears.

“Oh shit!” Louis snapped, standing up so suddenly he almost fell right back over. “I gotta go. I’ll see you guys in a bit,” he said hurriedly, heart pounding as he raced back to his and Harry’s temporary bedroom. Jenner had been so enthralling to speak with and look at that he’d completely forgotten about his soulmate suffering inside an inescapable dream. What a dick move on his part.

He burst through the incompletely closed door and leapt straight onto the bed, his surroundings still illuminated by the lamp that he hadn’t switched off before venturing beyond the threshold. Now that the sun was below the horizon, Harry should be at least _possible_ to wake, and Louis would do everything he could.

He planted himself directly onto Harry’s torso—a relatively dangerous position to be in, should Harry decide to physically lash out—and bounced up and down while he shouted his name a handful of times in quick succession. He threw in a few good slaps and shakes, and not too long after that, Harry’s eyes were blinking up at him in shock.

“Shit, Lou,” the vampire gasped, gently removing Louis from his stomach and sitting up to rub at his own face. “I had the worst fucking... _Jupiter_ …” he apparently cursed, Louis perpetually amused by Harry’s use of the Greek and Roman god instead of the Judeo-Christian one.

“What did you see?” Louis asked, prepared to be told his vampire didn’t want to talk about it.

“Azazel,” Harry replied, not having the heart to delve much deeper into the specifics. “I haven’t seen his face in ages. To see it so clearly in my mind was...not enjoyable,” he added with a shudder, crashing back down on the mattress and sighing regardless of his current lack of need for breath.

“I’m sorry,” Louis lamented directly from the heart, grateful that he couldn’t accurately conjure the daunting image of Harry’s creator. His limited knowledge and vague conception of Azazel poked holes in his courage; he didn’t need or desire to witness the real thing, and it terrified him to think that he may in the foreseeable future. That initial symbolism may be a bit of a downplay as well; it was more like Azazel ripped his courage off his mind like a crusty Band-Aid stuck to a freshly scabbing wound. “You’re safe, though. It wasn’t real,” he soothed, brushing his palm over Harry’s forehead and affectionately tussling his hair.

“For now,” Harry corrected with a weighted groan of reluctance in his voice, catching Louis’ wrist and running his nose over the protruding, throbbing veins that lied anxious just beneath it. Louis’ blood knew Harry’s endorphins so well by now that when his mouth wandered anywhere near the prominent blue veins, that delicious, deep maroon coloured substance rushed to the surface of his skin as though a fire had been set behind it. “The desperate plea of your blood to meet the ends of my fangs drives me to the point of madness,” he purred, committed to push Azazel from his thoughts by use of clever distractions.

Louis hummed and closed his eyes, goosebumps painting themselves up the length of his arm and stopping to gather in a pool just below his jaw. “Come here,” he whispered as he stared down at Harry through heavy eyelids, crooking his index finger in a ‘come hither’ motion near the spot wherein his neck was tingling the strongest.

Harry eyed the tempting neck of his lover, discarding the wrist at his lips to wrap an arm around Louis’ back and roll him over until he was pinned between Harry and the silky bedsheets. “It would be my honour,” he chuckled, sniffing at Louis’ skin and inadvertently arching the human’s back. “I don’t know, though,” he suddenly sighed, lifting himself a foot above Louis and smirking at his affronted face. “I like it when my prey begs for me.”

Louis had a bad track record of tolerating Harry’s seductive taunts; he’d rather contribute taunts of his own to receive that mind-blowing transfer of the vampire’s narcotic saliva to his vulnerable nervous system, where it would then addictively abuse his pleasure center. “I’m hardly your prey if I’m pining for it,” he negated, scoffing like Harry’s playful game of power _wasn’t_ provoking him to the maddening level it truly was.

Harry knew Louis was being intentionally difficult, but the human’s futile efforts stood no chance at preventing Harry from winning in the end. Such efforts could never hold that power. Louis would always inevitably crack first; so long as he is human, Louis will remain inescapably trapped under Harry’s control. The vampire was secretly looking forward to that table violently turning someday, but until that fateful occurrence, he would continue to avidly soak up the egotistical fun while he still had the unchallenged opportunity. He’d thank himself for it later when Louis could finally force him under his deliciously curved body.

Louis grew astoundingly irritated that Harry only flashed his dimples at him, not even letting him see the fangs that held the ability to reduce his human brain to orgasmic mush. “The silent treatment?” he seethed, his skin crawling with the need to touch his immortal, neck aching to be caught by Harry’s lethally inhuman teeth. Whereas it was mere childsplay for Harry to deny Louis of his urgently coveted pleasure, it was unfairly agonizing for himself. Louis was entitled to the inalienable right of experiencing the sensation that Harry was so cruelly retaining from him whenever he damn pleased, and they both knew it—Harry was being a selfish and unethical asshole.

Harry resumed his unresponsive staring contest without a peep of comfort, unshakably awaiting Louis’ helpless surrender. He didn’t necessarily aim to be such a merciless tease, but after the heartless brutality he’d endured via Azazel in his haunting dream, he craved the reassurance that he was far superior to at least _someone_ ; and what better example of proof could he find than his delicate human?

“I’m not going to roll over like some bitch, Harry,” Louis gritted through a hardened jaw, contradicting his words with his heated trembling. The thick, searing flames of desire spreading through his veins in a torturously sluggish pace were firmly threatening to demolish the wall of defense he was frantically paving brick by brick, thereby reducing it to crumbled rubble, but he held his pride in a vice-grip, absolutely refusing to let Harry have his presumptuous way with him, genuine as his vampiric superiority may in fact be. Fuck that. No.

“Louis,” Harry bent down to breath into his ear, ensuring the icy air from his useless lungs softly caressed Louis’ toasty skin, just under his earlobe. The Roman knew that feeling drove Louis wild with want, and he wasn’t above stooping to such low levels of torment. “Tell me you want me.”

Louis’ glossy eyes rolled back in his head, labored pants blowing past his parted lips. He wouldn’t be able to cope with this standoff much longer, and the white flag of forfeit was presenting itself to Louis’ mind like a blinding light of sweet relapse at the end of a dark, miserable tunnel of abstinence. He gripped the flag’s handle in a tight fist, but he would not wave it. Not yet. “Why should you always get exactly what you want?” he griped, warily opening his eyes to lock onto Harry’s mesmerising face, such dangerous features to peer at in his weakened condition.

“On the contrary, I’m the one withholding that which _you_ want most,” Harry insisted, the soft pads of his fingertips floating across Louis’ pronounced collarbone, causing destructive waves of shivers to relentlessly beat against the dismantled shores of his skin.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it too,” Louis moaned, having failed at harnessing the growl he’d sought to unleash, the _true_ tone of his angered mood...he refused to admit both sounds were equally applicable.

“I’d waited centuries for you...you think I can’t wait an hour or two until you give up?” the vampire derided, languidly extending his fangs and smirking at Louis’ eyes that had become instantly transfixed by their perilous gleam. “Who am I kidding, you could never last an hour.”

Louis’ mental white flag rapidly sprouted into a size large than his own body, and he shattered as its leaden cloth swept back and forth in submission, irreparably obliterating his determination, the instantaneous loss precipitating mindless arms to shoot out and lock around Harry’s neck, and the docile baring of his own. “ _Please_!” he sobbed in indulgent capitulation, hot tears spilling out from his mismatched eyes, his pride left in shambled puddles upon the sheets.

Harry allowed himself one short grin of victory, rearing back and embedding that which Louis so needily yearned for deep into the skin that had waited so very patiently for its gratification. He hummed in approval as Louis chokingly screeched his moment of pure ecstasy into his ear, grinding his hips down against the wet spot that had rippled out across the front of the human’s pyjama pants.  

“F-fuck-k,” Louis stuttered with chattering teeth, his release producing uncontrollable spasms that reverberated throughout his lower half, inner muscles of his groin clenching and pulsating as he rode out the high. Harry’s tongue traced otherworldly circles between the bite marks he’d made, setting off a barrage of miniature to moderately sized explosions within Louis’ body, urging him to the precipice of a secondary orgasm before he’d had the time to prepare, or even begin to recover from the first. His toes curled in anticipation as he valiantly held his shallow breath, the slowly rounding descent of his roller-coastered climax breaking over the peak and plunging him downward into an alternate reality of overwhelming, multi-dimensional rapture.

Harry grudgingly pulled his fangs out of their happy home before Louis would fall ill with anemia, recognizing the spent human was already blacked out with intoxicating pleasure, gasping and heaving his breath like a fish out of water as he gazed down at Louis’ blissed-out, darkly flushed face. “I love you,” he groaned, crashing their lips together and shoving his arms under Louis’ back to hold him close.

“Mmm,” was Louis’ drawled response as he came to, melting and bending to the kiss as it called for it, whining when Harry pulled away, even though it was to gander at him with adoration. Louis lazily smiled and ran his fingers down Harry’s face in the same gentle manner he’d previously had his collarbone stroked, Harry’s sensitivity to touch no doubt picking up on the motion in a much more defined fashion.

All at once, the memory of Louis’ feeble attempts at fighting Harry’s undeniable order came crawling back into his fuddled mind, but the anger that accompanied it had long since dissipated. He slapped at Harry’s chest and scrunched his nose in harsh judgment of his vampire’s manipulative actions, but his eyes shone bright and sparkled as he fondly muttered out a resigned, “Bastard.”

 

\---

 

“Should we wake them up, or…” Louis wondered in reference to Zayn and Niall not making their appearance yet. He was seated in the living room couch with Harry, watching the hustle and bustle of the vampiric early morning routines.

Harlock’s house was not surprisingly crawling with vampires, and Louis gathered that the eye-patched immortal had requested the other occupants give the group some space last night to ease their unexpected move in. Harlock’s home clearly operated as a type of stronghold commune that he had likely cultivated over the years, offering safe refuge to the weary traveler, or the creature on the run.

Louis had seen many vampires and a few handfuls of humans, blood-partners and fang whores alike, roaming about the halls when he had finally dragged Harry out of bed after their furious game of sexual tug-of-war. Harlock and Jenner had been sat on the couch where he’d last seen them, and by the minute, more and more vampires had begun to rouse from their daytime slumbers and come out to socialize, signaling Harlock and Jenner’s need to go and join them.

Louis hadn’t brought up the Harlock day-walking thing quite yet, but it was still fresh in his mind. Every time he looked at Harlock and his perplexing human under his arm, his confounded mind ran further away from him, rapidly spinning in blurring circles that he couldn’t hope to slow.

Jenner was a young, seventy-two-year-old adult, and Harlock could take leisurely evening strolls in the outside world. Okay, but how?

Louis tried to accept it at face value, but the concept wasn’t an easy one to ignore or brush aside. Not like Louis has any room to talk, though; if anyone from an outside perspective were to become privy of his and Harry’s situation, they’d also likely mull it over for hours and never smooth the confused furrow of their brow. Ludicrous things that challenged every law reality had set for the planet seemed to happen all around Louis, and you’d think he would be used to it by now, but really...vampires in daylight? Daylight weapons in nighttime? What the fuck’s next?

“Louis?” Harry whispered, giving him a light shake on their shared loveseat to grab his attention.

“What?” Louis asked, thoughts too spacey to stay in the present time and place.

“You were the one that asked the question. I said I can have Martin go get them if you don’t want to,” Harry repeated, snorting when Louis still didn’t look like he quite understood.

“Oh, right,” Louis chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and collapsing further into Harry’s side, marinating in the rare warmth his vampire currently sizzled in, no thanks to himself and their heated, passionate exchange of life.

“So shall I—”

“Where is Martin anyway?” Louis interjected, scanning the crowd in the adjacent room for any sign of their faithful butler.

“Flirting with a human,” Harry replied, his nostrils flaring as he picked up on Martin’s scent mixing with theirs. This small fusion of aromas meant that they were standing close enough for touching distance, and he assumed that some suggestive arm and hand brushes had taken place.

“Let him have his fun, maybe Zayn and Niall are busy,” Louis said, wondering just how far Niall and Zayn had gone by this point in their relationship. He’d been around for most of it, but vampires are sneaky beings, and he didn't have the adequate senses to detect it all.

Harry nodded even though he knew they were simply sleeping, and sunk back into the small couch; it was rock hard and not at all as pleasantly comfortable as his own, but he could hardly be picky when staying at his place would have meant an eventual altercation with his twin brother.

Louis turned his focus to the shiny glamour of the spacious living room, eyeing everything at least once with a prolonged pause to be thorough. The build of the house was too complex to put into words that would paint the accurate picture, and he definitely hadn’t seen enough of it yet to tell, but its visible splendors were plenty and deserved descriptions.

The flooring was the main attraction that had made him fall in love, first of all. The large, black and white patterned tiles of the living room’s floor made every piece of furniture and standing creature look like a chess piece. The tiles were not small and raised like that of the club’s bathroom, but flat and wide, stretching across the expanse of the living room and stopping at the mouth of the hallway, where dark, cherry wood panels took their place.

Every archway was just that; arched to magnificent degrees, bending and molding into the walls to dome every hallway, or separate room. The grandeur double front doors had been black and nearly metallic, probably to give even vampires at least a few moments of trouble should they attempt a break-in. This metallic theme seemed to be a common one, and it followed to most the doors in the house.

The windows were sparse, and Louis had only seen two in the house so far, mid-height on the same wall as the front doors. They both had heavy curtains as previously mentioned that completely blocked out every possible hint of sunlight, but apparently that didn’t even matter to Harlock. More a safety precaution for all the other residents of the manor, if Louis is getting all this correctly. Apart from those two windows, there were none in bedrooms, and all other light sources came in the form of lamps and lanterns that were standing against or plastered to the walls, not unlike Harry’s in the eastern wing of their abandoned home, bathing the interior in a golden glow that kindled a constant mood of romanticism.

Harry’s mansion had alternatively harbored no covers on windows at all, and said windows had been everywhere, in every room, igniting the mansion in a perfectly average amount of sunshine. Louis didn’t understand where Martin had slept all that time if he had chosen a random room on the second floor to call his own, but Louis was sure that he had some sort of secret up his sleeve. Zayn had been forced to tack tapestries to the window in the guest room, and of course Harry slept underground.

Here, though, they took their aversion to sunlight very seriously, and the mansion could easily begin to feel like a prison if one was a heavy claustrophobic. Adding to this comparison was the fact that no mouth-watering artworks or paintings hung on the plain white walls. There wasn’t much customization to appreciate, save for the overkilled furniture that Louis felt guilty for touching, but the bare walls kind of made sense. If this was more of a community housing type of establishment than a solely owned home for one’s personal enjoyment, it would stand to reason that proper, casual accessories would be more commonly present.

Louis knocked his head back and gazed up at the pair of chandeliers hanging down from the high ceiling, their little glass rectangles shimmering every time he leaned over to view it from a new angle. Louis was happily basking in the fresh and exciting environment; he felt safe and well protected in this place, just as Harry had advertised, and he was already understanding why Harry had come straight here after that horrifying first encounter with Auron. It was the Helm’s Deep of his courageous hobbit story, and he’d like to see a band of Uruk-hai burst through _these_ doors.

Some of the vampires he’d seen looked like actual, honest warriors, and if this place was home to a small coalition of trained fighter immortals from all walks of the Earth, they were dependably defended, and Louis could finally let out that shuddery held breath he’d sucked in when the club’s bathroom window had shattered to introduce his arch-nemesis.  

“Here they come,” Harry said, jarring Louis out of his thought land as they both turned their attention to the hallway.

Zayn and Niall shuffled out carefully, with Zayn’s eyes scouring their surroundings and nose obviously tasting all the unfamiliar scents, and Niall’s head downcast as he uselessly tried to hide his new marks.

“Oh, give it up, Niall,” Louis scolded, turning his chin up to proudly show his marks of ownership, sighing low in his throat when the slight stretch of his skin brought on a brief wave of euphoria.

Harry hummed in enjoyment and bent in to inhale the neck his human was displaying so provocatively (to a vampire, that is), accidentally tickling Louis with his nose.

Louis giggled and leaned out of Harry’s direct bite range, giving him a sly face that said: “Later,” and meeting Niall’s awkward expression. “Your marks are something to show off, Niall. Zayn gave them to you out of love and passion. Own them,” he commanded almost harshly, his vampire practically shaking with aroused approval.

“You are the best damn blood-partner this world has ever seen,” Harry whispered privately into Louis’ ear, the hesitance to voice it normally stemming from not wanting to offend the innocent Niall.

“Well it's not like I'm ashamed,” Niall firmly defended with a gasp, his hand flying up to feel around the raised scars he now bore. “I just want it to be between Zayn and I only…” he admitted bashfully, his immortal positively glowing on his side.

“A noble sentiment, Niall. But that's not how it works,” Harry stated, immediately attacking the unsuspecting Louis and wrangling him down onto the cushions of the couch as he roughly bit into his neck.

Louis yelped from the shock and tugged on the front of Harry’s shirt to force him closer, forgetting all about the couple watching them.

“What he _meant_ to say, before he disregarded words to speak by demonstration,” Zayn began in a chuckle, walking Niall over to a separate couch and sitting him down as the blonde stared at Louis and Harry in surprise, “is that we vampires are...what you might call ‘vain.’ Such in the sense that we get much pleasure by proving what’s ours is _ours_. It wards off other immortals who might want a taste of you beautiful creatures. We'd rather not fight our own kind if possible, but we don't ever let our guard down,” he explained in a way that was easy to understand.

“That makes sense,” Niall said with a far off daze on his face, still unable to look away from the sensual scene before him because it was indeed surreal to see it from an outside view. The bobbing of Harry’s Adam’s apple as he drank what should be a disgusting substance to ingest, and Louis’ blissful reaction to the process was a magical and fascinating thing, and is it truly how he and Zayn looked when they did it?

“I can't bear to watch your desire unfold as I do nothing,” Zayn murmured, granting Niall what he was so shamelessly gawking at before he'd had the chance to register what was happening.

Niall tensed for a split second until the initial spark of pain passed, then his bones turned to jelly as he formed himself to Zayn’s embrace, his guttural moan easily reaching the ears of all immortals in the house.

Lead by example of a curious vampire who followed the sound into the opening of the room, staring at the pair from under the archway with uncontrollable lust in his eyes. What shocked Niall most was his apparent lack of fucks to give concerning the unknown vampire’s impolite staring. He found himself meeting his lewd eyes with a courage he didn’t suppose he possessed, a tiny smirk forming on his lips as he shot a bunch of taunts the vampire’s way in his head. _Yeah, you wish you could have me. But you can't. I'm his._

He started to understand vampires’ desire to so openly broadcast their relationships. It felt damn good to be the object of envy.

“Well, well, well. What a surprise to wake up and find you all attached at the neck,” Martin teased, uncrossing his arms and pushing off the wall when Harry released Louis and looked over his shoulder.

“Evening, Martin,” Harry greeted, licking his fangs and wiping his lips while Louis valiantly tried to sit up, keeling back over when he realized he was extracting energy from negative reserves.

“Evenin’,” Martin quipped politely, snickering while he observed Harry guiding Louis upright to try and keep him stable.

Zayn was second to halt his bloody fun, holding Niall close because the poor blonde didn't have a chance at keeping himself supported yet. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, holding a hand over his thumping heart just to feel it and the power that Niall held over it. No fang whore in the world could give him this much vitality.

“Pretty terrible, actually. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I saw that ungodly light flashing behind my eyelids. It was horrendous,” he recalled with a shudder, grateful that he'd managed to get even a wink of sleep.

“An effect of sun sickness,” Harry said uneasily, a swarm of not so fun memories reminding Harry of their existence in the depths of his overworked mind. “Your body forcibly keeps you awake when the sun is up to remind you of the pain; bring you closer to that sodding ball of fire against your will. That should go away in a few nights, but don’t expect to get a full day’s sleep anytime soon,” he warned with a grimace, all of his sympathy going out to his misfortunate butler.

“Is everyone awake enough out here?” Harlock asked as he glided into the room in a luxurious navy blue robe, his peculiar Jenner also dressed in a pearly silk robe following in his tracks and stepping out on his side when they reached the couches.

Harry’s eyes went wide as they locked onto Jenner, pointing a slow finger at the redhead and parting his lips to speak. “You’re...you’re a real warlock,” he noted in disbelief, Zayn’s nose scrunching as he carefully studied the object of the claim. Martin seemed speechless too, and while Louis had already learned this earlier on in the evening, the vampires’ stunned reactions brought that curiosity back to the surface.

“He’s a what?” Niall squawked, choked laughter spilling out through an amused grin.

Louis snapped his fingers to get Niall’s attention and gave him an inconspicuous shake of his head, translating not only that he shouldn’t cause any more interruptions, but also that it was true and not to be challenged. If it were any other time, Louis would have torn his stomach muscles from laughing so hard at Niall’s face, but this situation held no room in it for deemphasizing.

“Harlock, I thought that was just your nickname for him. You never told me he was the real thing,” Harry scolded in fascination.

Harlock grinned and gently walked Jenner forward to present him to the intrigued immortal company, his glee over his showcase translating beautifully without words.

“I haven’t seen one of your kind in two-hundred years,” Harry continued, standing to make his way over to the gifted human on display and give a cordial kiss to his freckled hand.

“Harry, you hadn’t left the _house_ in two-hundred years,” Martin pointed out, waving to the warlock when the sudden statement made their eyes meet.

“Make it three-hundred,” Harry bluntly rectified with an impatient twinge in his tone that could have had the power to smack Martin aside the face had he looked directly at his butler when he’d said it. Alas, his head never turned behind him, and he redirected his words to his vampire acquaintance. “Harlock, I'll take that explanation now,” he ordered in a lighthearted tone.

“We lost touch after I first moved to America,” Harlock pardoned, a fond look on his face as he assumedly relived their particular story of friendship. “You sent me that letter soon after you’d purchased your mansion, and after I met up with you and Martin that one time back in the eighteenth century, our communication gradually snuffed. I set up camp here in Lockhart, mainly because of the happy play off my name, and I found my Jenner aside the Union Pacific Railroad near McCall in 1921, playing the violin for petty coins,” he explained, his adoration for his human clear as day within the sparkle of his pupils.

“Aww, how old are you?” Harry asked sweetly as though he were questioning a child, his appreciation for magical humans spanning back to before he’d known vampires existed, beginning with the great enjoyment he'd feel conversing with the mystics and soothsayers of Rome.

“I’m seventy two,” Jenner replied shyly, his earlier swagger with the easily riled Louis transforming into a more courteous, respectful demeanor.

Louis squinted his eyes in weary distaste; because Harry was of an ancient upbringing that so obviously poured from his aura, he was automatically showered with deference. While Louis on the other hand, even though his soul happened to be much older than Harry’s age, was stuck getting backhanded by a constant stream of condescending, snooty attitudes. It wasn’t fair.

“Practically a vampire teenager, I’m impressed. Such poise you carry which rivals that of nearly all fang club immortal clientele. You should be very proud,” he added to Harlock, finally returning to his place at Louis’ side and animatedly pushing him forward as well—evidently it would be their turn soon.

“I am,” Harlock affirmed, his hand traveling up and down Jenner’s side and intermittently massaging the skin where he saw fit. “He had no home when I found him, his parents had both died at the hands of Witch-hunters. I of course sniffed out his kind flowing through his veins in an instant, another happy mixing with my name, and likewise, he knew just what I was hiding too. Once he’d finally fallen for me, which he’d consistently promised me that he wouldn’t, his main priority became elongating his life so that we may share a happy interspecies bond for a privileged length of time.”

“How special is that?” Harry cooed to Jenner, who shifted his eyes downward and smiled nervously in agreement.

“Over time, he learned how to sidestep of the laws of vampiric immortality to create his own version, and he granted me the gift of sunlight as payment. Through his blood, I can walk in the brightest of days, and I do not tire. And through my blood, he is able to disconnect from his human aging process and hold tight to his mesmerising youth,” he said dreamily, one more satisfied sigh away from blowing his maybe nonexistent soul out past his lips.

“Okay, but you completely lost me at ‘seventy two,’” Niall deadpanned, Zayn snorting into his disheveled hair.

“I’ll explain later, Niall,” Harry said flippantly, framing Louis with hands on either side of his upper arms and pulling him in so he was stood directly in front of him like a priceless piece of performance art. “As you were introduced last night, this is Louis,” he began, letting Harlock fully take the time and assess his every feature.

Louis could not even remotely believe just how proud and obnoxious vampires were about “their toys.” It was flattering in a sense, but he could see it becoming increasingly tiring if they had to do this every time they met a new couple. The distant future appeared to hold never-ending back and forth bragging contests between vampires on their lover’s best characteristics, but luckily it didn't actually seem to have the gnawing feeling of a competition to it. Vampires just liked to boast.

“Louis found my mansion after being run down and injured by a band of miscreants, and he hid inside day after day until he eventually found me. It was then that I realized he was much more than what he seemed, and that fate had meticulously put us back together, for he is the...what we believe to be..." He paused to looked at his group (especially the confused Niall) and quietly whispered his next words into Harlock's ear, "...the reincarnation of my beloved Alexander.” 

“You're kidding! You don’t say...I noticed the eyes,” Harlock breathed in awe, stepping forward and peering into Louis’ watery irises that bore the exact same description that Harry had given to Alexander’s so very long ago. “How has this come to be?” he pondered aloud, silently reaching for one of Louis’ hands in case the human would not accept contact.

Louis turned his head toward Harry, shifting his eyes at the last second to ask if it was okay.

“Go ahead, my love,” Harry permitted with an easygoing smile, making up Louis’ mind.

Louis rested his palm in Harlock’s warmed hand, feeling a bit like he was encroaching on his and the warlock’s romantic privacy, because for the vampire's skin to be this warm, Jenner must have given his blood very recently. No matter what, humans will always find blood-drinking more special and personal than vampires will.

Harlock gripped the hand Louis had offered and gave its surface a subtle inhale, furrowing his brows and peering up at Louis through one long pair of eyelashes. “You smell old,” he noted, checking Harry’s face for an explanation.

“It slowly evolved over time,” Harry supplied, his right hand rested on Louis’ hair, giving the softest of rubs. “Especially when he regained these eyes.”

“Magnificent,” Harlock praised, winking at the uneasy Louis and turning his frame to face Zayn and Niall.

Zayn cleared his throat and stood upright, pulling Niall along to join the crowded group. “I'm Zayn Malik, Harry's friend, and this is Niall Horan, Louis’ best friend that I very purposefully wooed to be mine,” he said with a smirk, holding onto the blonde as he pushed him forward, aware that Niall would probably cower in fear if left to his own defenses.

“It's a pleasure, Niall,” Harlock said softly, outstretching his hand before him, prepared for the sharp rejection from the jittery blonde.

Niall surprised everyone by meeting the hand courageously in the middle, giving it a good, professional shake, and then jumping back into Zayn’s awaiting arms when he'd finished the job.

All immortals chortled in amusement as they dispersed from the formalities, Martin fitting in a quick and unnoticed greeting with Jenner and Harlock while everyone was busy taking their seats.

"What just happened?" Niall whispered to Zayn, who gave him a quick shake of his head and a spark of lure from his eyes to make Niall forget the strange interaction with Louis and Harlock. It was not his business to reveal any of that—Louis or Harry would inevitably be the ones to drop that bomb.

Harry waited until his company was quiet and attentive before commencing the serious conversation that begged to be had. “So...I need every detail you can offer. How did you know about Auron’s reappearance? When and where did you see him? I didn't give you enough time to explain before I slammed the phone down and sprung into action,” he said, his butler leaning forward to show his dire interest in the topic as well.

Harlock smiled, though it didn’t look at all happy, a labored sigh expanding his toned chest that peeked through his haphazardly tied robe. “I’ll ask for your encounter story after I explain,” he said first, resuming when Harry impatiently nodded and waved his arm. “It was as I told you, but for the benefit of the humans present, I’ll create some backstory. See, this home of mine is a safe haven for vampires, their partners, and fang addicts by the plenty. I take in any well mannered individual who has no place to call their own, or in the fang addicts’ case, are too delicate and delirious to be left out on their own where anything could happen to them,” he informed, pausing to let the slower minded humans take it all in.

Louis as it were, was flattered that Harlock had the respect that Harry and Zayn absolutely _didn’t_ to call fang whores by a more polite title. Even though that type of fleeting blood-partner lifestyle had nothing to do with Louis personally, he was still a human, and Harlock treating his brothers and sisters with such sweet care made a warm feeling bubble up inside him.

“To do this, I must step outside the boundaries of this place and go find all these directionless creatures. I make weekly, sometimes monthly rounds to fang clubs in search of the loner I could take under my wing, and it just so happened that when I traveled to the _Sharp Tongue_ over in Brimsville with my Jenner, I was hit with the sight of the Harry I had so dearly missed—”

“Wait, wait, hang on. Did you say _Sharp_ _Tongue_? Shit, that's where you went?” Harry groaned, mentally slapping himself for not staying on Harlock’s phone call before running off to that exact club that night. He absolutely would not have gone with two defenseless humans, a jackass friend and a butler if he'd known that's precisely where Auron had been. It was obvious the Sharp Tongue was the connection, but not the fucking base.

“Yeah, that's what I had been about to tell you. I only got to saying it was in Brimsville before you growled and said you had shit to do,” Harlock mourned, feeling regretful that he hadn't called back, or tried harder to give all the information.

Harry sighed into his hand, but that past could not be changed, and there was no point bitching about it now. “It's okay,” he accepted, settling back down and resting his cheek on Louis’ hair. “Please continue.”

“Alright. I had already begun my approach by the time I realized that it wasn’t him, but his eyes met mine when I was halfway to him, and he must of seen my hesitation. If he's anything like you, Harry, he’s extremely intelligent. Meaning he picked up on every detail of my body language, and easily noticed I’d thought he was someone else. His devious smirk kinda spelled that one out anyway.”

“I’m staggered he didn’t pursue you that night,” Harry said, thankful that his predictable brother hadn’t, but still amazed altogether.

“I had no idea what you looked like, though I’d heard your name thrown around over the decades,” Jenner piped to Harry from his quietude. “But I know Harlock; his body and face were speaking millions, and I knew we had to get out of there. I whined at him for us to leave like I was hopelessly bored, and dragged him off the dance floor. Auron must have been busy anyhow, but neither of us were complacent enough to believe he would forget the events that had just unfolded.”

“We raced to a payphone that was far enough away to safely speak into, and I called your house immediately. I was glad you answered. You know the rest. Jenner still didn’t know anything, so we fled back home, and I let him in on the situation. Wasn’t too long after that we received your call back, and now here you are,” Harlock finished, opening the floor for more discussion from any party.

“Right. Okay, well I got that call and told Martin what was happening, contacted Zayn, and we went to Brimsville that night to scope out the vampire hangouts that weren’t at all related to the _Sharp Tongue_ , just to ask around and see if anyone had seen him. Nobody had any helpful answer at all, but I knew you hadn’t been lying. It would have been a preposterous thing to lie about, especially because I’d told you that tale before—”

“That was the night Niall and I went to dinner with his parents?” Louis filled in, satisfied he was finally getting some concrete answers to complete that odd and fuzzy night.

“Yeah, it was,” Martin affirmed, Niall beginning to understand the timeline as well.

“The next night, which was last night, the four of us went to the _Sharp Tongue_ , simply because I wasn’t prepared or willing to let the humans remain at the house that could have been actively watched by Auron’s people, and he showed up. The whole club attacked us, and a bunch of other stupid shit happened…” he trailed, disinclined to retell every plot point of their previous night of terrors.

Zayn took over for him and described it all in the detail Harry had steered clear of, including everything from the bathroom scene, to the cornfield, and the house invasion. Harry had grown scarily quiet as he let himself think about the injustice of his lowly brother, his grip on Louis’ shoulder tightening until the pained human shook him off.

“Sorry,” he murmured, moving his hand to the back of the couch so he could squeeze the inanimate life out of that instead.

“I feel partway responsible,” Harlock mourned, happy that he’d been able to offer refuge, but resentful toward himself for making the group need it so desperately.

“No, it was me,” Zayn assured just as guiltily, his face falling to a grimace of shame. “I had already taken Harry to the _Sharp Tongue_ about a week or so before this all went down. Before we got your call. That club is Auron’s territory, I guess he’s in control of it or something. I’m sure with you being an Elder, your reaction to seeing him was only a mere confirmation of the thing that his people had been trying to tell him.”

“Even still…” Harlock pressed, secretly overjoyed that this disaster didn’t entirely fall on him alone. “I’m sorry it had to transpire like this,” he said with an empathetic expression, gesturing around himself as he spoke the next words. “You are of course welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I can only try to lessen this blow with shelter, I haven’t the power to do much else.”

“We can’t even accept that,” Harry argued just as Zayn was about to say “Thank you.” Zayn’s eyebrows jumped up into his hairline, but Harry understood the gravity of their position better than anyone. “We cannot stay here for long. With Auron tracking us, it will bring ruin to your peaceful way of life, and you deserve far better than getting irreversibly dragged into this. I admit we should not have even come here, but I was completely out of options...no...we’ll recuperate, get what we need, then we’ll be on our way.”

“Where are you going to go?” Harlock questioned, giving up the urge to refute Harry’s concerns because the Roman was far more knowledgeable of not only his brother, but the whole circumstance at hand.  

“I don’t know yet,” Harry admitted, tending to hate nothing more than admitting he had no answers. “That’s what we’re going to figure out during our short stay here, and when we plan it out, we’ll go.”

“Please don’t be too rushed. I have good fighters here to guard my human residents, they put up a good layer of protection,” Harlock pushed carefully, aware that Harry slightly resembled a time bomb, and that the littlest agitation could likely set him off.

“Auron has an army,” Harry negated simply, appreciating the sentiment, but if everyone would stop treating this like a measly inconvenience, that would be great. This was a damn _mess_. “And it gets worse, because my...my…”

“His maker is involved,” Martin helpfully finished for him, shooting an apologetic look when Harry nearly convulsed in a powerful cringe.

“Maker,” Harlock repeated, promptly losing all the air in his living lungs, a horrified look replacing his former curious one.

“He might be in league with Auron,” Martin continued, not expecting Harry to take over at any point. Poor Roman could hardly handle the truth, much less speak about it.

“That's...what's the maker’s name? So I know what to listen for through the grapevine,” Harlock wondered, requesting it to Martin, but Harry was the voice to respond.

“I doubt you'd ever hear it. He's not widely known, even scarcely known. He's in the background of everything; never shows himself. But his name is Azazel,” he gritted, Louis’ hand wandering to his knee and squeezing it reassuringly.

Harlock committed it to memory and let it go, the conflict that had tragically struck down upon his old friend breaking his beating heart. Harry was a pacifist and a gentle soul from what he'd seen, and he didn't deserve to be haunted by his extensively horrific past.

“Harlock, I believe we should let them begin their planning,” Jenner chimed, notorious for following the moods of conversation like a moth to flame, picking up on the general feelings and hence steering away from environments that became tense to best minimize the levels of stress.

“Sure,” Harlock quipped, still staring at the group and wondering what he could do to help further.

“My love,” Jenner urged seductively, taking a different approach with his immortal if reasonability wouldn’t do the trick. His hand slid up Harlock’s breathing chest and dipped under his robe, tracing daring circles around the vampire’s nipple, awakening a patch of goosebumps under his fingertip. That got his attention.

Harlock sucked in a breath and looked down at his human; he knew all too well that Jenner was using a pointed distraction to back him off from his visitors, but he couldn’t deny the impulse to take his love to bed now, cunning ploy at work or not. “Fine,” he whispered in defeat under his breath, pinching Jenner on the hipbone and standing from the couch, directing his focus to Harry’s non-related family.

“That honestly sounds like a great idea anyway,” Harry sighed, noticing his far hand had snuck up Louis’ thigh with a mind of its own and was practically cupping his groin by this point.

“You’re insatiable lately,” Louis noted dryly, not even attempting to hide his true exhilaration.  

“Can’t help it, I’m stressed,” Harry excused, wrangling Louis into his arms and carting him off to the hallway. “We’ll talk later, Harlock. It was very nice to meet you, Jenner,” he said warmly, disappearing under the archway with a giggling Louis kissing up his neck.

“Quite the same,” Jenner said to the empty air because he knew Harry could still catch the response, dragging Harlock to the stairs to reach their room with similar addresses quickly spoken to Zayn, Niall, and Martin.

Martin yawned and sprawled out on the couch they’d just left, interlocking his fingers and resting his head onto his palms. “You two go and leave me as well, I’ll manage,” he said bitterly, yearning for that human he’d interacted with this morning. Miraculously, as he’d finished the thought, the scent of that very creature filtered into his nose, and he jumped off the back of the couch to forcibly hunt him down. “Never mind,” he corrected, jogging out of the room and seeking that aroma out, desperate to get his fill of passion that everyone else constantly flaunted before him like animals.

Niall and Zayn were silent on the couch, the vampire boring his eyes into Niall’s profile, the blonde holding strong to his decision to refuse eye contact.

“Niall,” Zayn purred to tempt him, the shiver shooting through Niall telling him everything he could need to know.

“I’ve never…” Niall moaned, his body’s acceptance of the concept making his brain do backflips. Is he really ready to lose his virginity? Wouldn’t it hurt? Is it the right time? His quivering thighs and demanding erection were screaming at him that it _was_ the time, but he just wasn’t completely convinced yet.

“I’ll make it feel so good, Niall. I’ll be gentle, you know I’d never hurt you. I’ll go nice and slow, take you higher than you ever thought possible,” he promised in a rumbling, throaty tone, nibbling on the blonde’s ear and planting kisses on his neck.

“I want to...I want you,” Niall gasped honestly, finally turning his head to nose at Zayn’s hair. “I'm yours.”

Zayn smiled against Niall’s shoulder and gazed up at his panting face, using his best lure to speak directly to Niall’s inner sexuality; break down some of the walls his insecurities had built for him. “Then let me take you,” he whispered, the undeniable glint in his eye finally reaching the deepest parts of Niall’s heart, setting his arousal ablaze and instantly making up his mind.

“Don’t make me ask,” Niall groaned, barking out a laugh when he was lifted just as Louis had been and carried down the same hallway. Yeah...he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how about that withheld bite scene tho?  
> Let's all light a candle for Niall's virginity ;)  
> Harlock is so fancy, boi. Such class in his diction, very proper. Jenner is my fucking FAVOURITE. Seriously, I love these two so much. Lord. And how nice, they all found a place to relax, ehhh? Good times can't last tho, can they?  
> 


	7. Butler Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with the horrendous titling. Guys, I love Martin's lovey dove so much :')  
> Sorry this chapter is kinda (ridiculously) short. But crazy shit starts happening soon, so eat up the calm while you can get it.  
> Also!! For those that have missed it, a lovely lady by the name of Blandine read Hadrian's french letter to Alexander aloud IN FRENCH, and if any of you want to listen to it, it's here: ( http://wubwubnparmaham.tumblr.com/post/158284444923/nottooldforthisship-wubwubnparmaham-asked-me )

Louis flinched awake into a fetal position and then lazily extended as his door was incessantly pounded on. He looked over his shoulder at the peaceful Harry and marinated in jealousy that he could still sleep through such a loud racket. He pushed himself up and rubbed his tiredly swollen face, tiptoeing across the floor as he rasped out a continuous, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fucking coming, what!”

He opened the door and his vexed attitude withered away into nothing; it was Niall. His best friend was standing there with his fist still raised where it had been slamming the heavy door, his toes pointed inward to create the same imagery as a dog hiding its tail between its legs, his other hand clutching his white t-shirt.

“Niall, what’s wrong?” Louis cooed, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind him.

“Uhh, nothing. Let’s just go out to the couches,” Niall suggested, tugging Louis along the hallway and into the dimly lit living room, both boys pelted with the smell of tasty cooked food wafting into their noses. No matter how much salivating they both were doing from breathing the aroma, the topic of food would have to wait until Niall got out what was stuck on his mind.

The red-wooden mantle clock balancing on its shelf above the fireplace told the time to be ten at night, so they’d all slept for somewhere around three hours, and loud choruses of voices could be heard echoing from the bowels of the mansion.

Louis sat down on the couch-for-show (he says this because it’s so ungodly uncomfortable) and ruffled Niall’s hair, giving him the affection that he seemed to require to soothe his gnawing. Niall smiled and a deep blush spread across his cheeks, foreshadowing the kind of subject matter he would imminently discuss.

“Ooh, what happened?” Louis lilted deviously.

“Zayn and I…” Niall trailed, giggling like a fool and shyly holding his cheeks. “We…”

“Finally!” Louis cried, cutting off Niall’s airflow with a boa constrictor hug. It seemed an odd thing to say, given the short period of time the pair had actually known each other, but when in the vampire world, things tended to move and blossom rather quickly.

Niall laughed and wrapped his arms around Louis’, knocking their heads together and allowing themselves to get lost in the happy moment, any trace of their impending strife ceasing to exist for this short speck in time.

“Tell me everything!” Louis urged, thinking it over and editing that request. “Okay, maybe not everything. Spare the gory details, but paint me an accurate picture,” he amended, Niall nodding in understanding and scratching under his chin as he lived through everything that happened between Zayn and himself.

“He started with biting me, and then like...undressing me in slow-motion,” the blonde said with limited breath, trying not to look at Louis because he knew the smirk he’d find would throw him off course and distract him from his storytelling. “Then, while I was high as shit, he slid down and—” A brief pause for an all-consuming convulsion of pleasure, “—and went down on me.”

“ _Ahh_ , the wonders of fellatio,” Louis sighed wistfully, not spending any more mental time on the topic lest he nurture an unwanted and demanding erection. “And then what? Did he let you come?” he asked, apparently ignoring his earlier conviction to have Niall “spare the details.” It was too juicy a scoop.

“No, he didn’t,” Niall replied with a playful glare, chuckling as he remembered how he’d whined and complained for fulfillment. “But then he...God, okay, he pushed my thighs up, and...and…”

“Bit you again while he pushed it in?” Louis guessed for him, snorting at the scandalized look he received.

“ _Jesus_ , Lou. Yeah, that’s what happened. He waited awhile until I was more... _there_ , you know, ‘cuz blood-drinking can get kind of intoxicating,” he said, Louis nodding all too understandingly in response. “And then when he moved... _ohh_ , Louis, it was the most amazing feeling in the whole world,” he gushed, the sore feeling in his hole throbbing as the ghost of Zayn’s hips rocked into him.

“How long did it last?” Louis inquired, unsure of whether he was asking about Niall’s climax or Zayn’s.

“I came like five times, it was ridiculous. The sex itself probably lasted...honestly, I have no idea. I was so out of it, I don’t think time really existed anymore. But at some point, I felt him come, and then he just held me until we both calmed down. Then he spooned me and hummed me to sleep,” he sighed lovingly, leaning into the couch and throwing his arms behind him to hang over the back, yawning and grinning at the same time.

“That’s basically the same first time I had, minus the humming. Harry was so careful and loving, and he still is. Every time is like the first, but I’m more used to it now,” he said, Niall’s interest perking up about the last statement.

“What do you mean ‘used to it’?” he asked, lowering his arms and crossing them over his chest, using all of his strength to pull his legs into a criss-cross position.

“Ah, well the way Harry explained it to me…” He thought back to Harry’s sensual words to him in the kitchen the night they all met and played truth or dare together. Words that had stuck with him because he’d given every ounce of his attention to them and their meaning. _“_ _Your body is being trained to handle me….I mean at first, my saliva is totally overpowering to you, and your body doesn’t know how to withstand its effects. That’s why you would lose consciousness for a while in the beginning. Being immune doesn’t mean that the pleasure lessens, it means that you have become familiar enough with it that it won’t override your system and knock you out.”_ Louis had been so taken by Harry’s lips forming those delicious words, and he had discovered pretty soon after that conversation they were true.

He repeated Harry’s old words as concisely as he could to the enraptured Niall, watching the unmistakable depiction of determination and motivation creep onto his face. Apparently he saw it as a challenge too—Louis would never have to wonder why him and Niall were best friends. It was proven all the time.

“I’m looking forward to testing that out,” the blonde said impishly, riling himself up as he planned out how he would see that through.

“I’m semi looking forward to hearing the results of that testing,” Louis replied, his gaze falling past Niall and locking onto Harry strolling out from the hallway. “Harry!” he called with a dazzling smile, reaching his arms out to hasten his vampire’s approach. “I didn’t think you’d wake up, after sleeping through a jackhammer on our door,” he said, giving Niall a lighthearted look of blame.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed, dipping over the couch to hold Louis close, only pulling back to jump over it and land seated beside him. “I didn’t expect the bed to be empty when I woke up,” he countered, stretching his long, pyjama-panted legs out on the glistening coffee table before them.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Louis paused to raise an eyebrow at Niall, “ _Niall_ here—”

“Lookin’ good, cupcake,” Zayn said unexpectedly, Niall turning to mush and laughing out loud to expel his nervous butterflies.

“Oh good. You finally found someone to call ‘cupcake’,” Louis said dryly, Harry chuckling into his temple.

“Hiii,” Niall breathed in a transfixed fashion, staring with wide eyes as his lover strode up to him and carded his sharply nailed fingers through his messy blonde hair.

“Hello,” Zayn reciprocated in amusement, their recent history of lovemaking written plainly on both of their smiles.

Harry reached over the two humans and punched Zayn on the shoulder, giving him a knowing wink and teasing upturn of his full lips. “Nice one.”

Zayn opened his mouth to utter an equally incorrigible reply when Harlock cleared his throat from the assumed dining room, all heads turning to meet his one, golden-yellow eye. “Lunch time,” he announced, dipping back into the room none of them had seen yet and expecting them to follow.

“Thank god we can eat that smell,” Louis laughed, springing up and corralling Niall to his feet to chase their noses’ compass.

The vampires strutted behind them, Martin swiftly making his appearance out of nowhere, but halfway across the room, the butler suddenly stiffened like time itself had snapped to a halt, and his two companions turned back to implore the meaning of his behavior. “He’s close,” he whispered harshly, straightening his sweater vest and primping his hair like he was about to go to prom.

“Who?” Zayn asked guardedly, gearing for a fight before Harry slightly shook his head without a care.

“ _He_ ,” Martin stressed in annoyance, under the impression that everyone should already know who ‘he’ is.

“Go get him,” Harry said with a waggle of his brow, grabbing Martin around his arm and hurling him in front to forcibly push him toward his goal. He could smell that Martin hadn’t made love with “him” as of yet, but the remnants of human blood on his lips alluded that _something_ had happened, and Harry honestly couldn’t be happier for his butler, who had spent so much of his immortal life in romantic solitude.

“Cut it out, I’m fucking nervous, okay?” Martin snapped, throwing his weight back to shake Harry’s insistence off.

“Nervous? Why?” Harry laughed, holding his hands up in surrender when Martin glared at him more angrily than he’d ever done to date.

“Because! He’s absolutely perfect. An absolute dream. I’ve never met anyone like him, and he makes me...lose my confidence. He makes me...I’m obsessed,” the butler stutteringly explained, brushing his shoulders off like he actually had dirt caked on them that needed cleaning. “I think I’m in love.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, Martin,” Harry noted, sharing a look of amusement with Zayn when Martin’s eyes were downcast to check the status of his trousers.

“Do I look okay?” the butler asked, looking to both Harry and Zayn for a confirmation.

“You look _fine_ ,” Zayn assured, slowly stepping forward to hopefully resume their walk into the kitchen.

“What’s his name?” Harry inquired, joining Zayn in the crawling stroll.

“Tanner,” Martin said reverently, holding strong to his glued spot on the black and white floor, bravely slapping each palm onto his friends’ chests. “We’re both virgins,” he admitted under his breath, finally unveiling his neurotic heart and what was driving it mad with uncertainty.

“You found a virgin in this place?” Zayn asked incredulously, giving Martin a look that signified he was exceedingly impressed.

“Not a fang virgin,” Martin specified, no seed of displeasure to grow over Tanner’s incidental experience with vampire endorphins. None of that mattered one bit. Who _wouldn’t_ want Tanner? “But the sexual kind.”

“Aww, you both are just these two little novices of love, this is the most adorable thing I have ever witnessed,” Harry cooed, outstretching his arms to coddle his butler when the irritated vampire dodged as though Harry were his decrepit Grandmother who always gave sloppy, wet, gummy, and unbearable kisses on his cheek.

“No thanks,” Martin scoffed in reference to the condescending hug, turning on his heel and facing his fears with an unbreakable resolve. Anything was better than getting talked down to like a twelve-year-old by two well-seasoned sex gods.  

Zayn and Harry met eyes and cramped their chests in silent laughter, sending Martin off with their best wishes and picking up the journey where they’d left off, entering under the archway and scoping the room they came into with approval.

The kitchen and dining room were connected without any separation, the left side being the shimmering kitchen with vampires and humans combined bustling around and adding the finishing touches to the rare-cooked flank, t-bone, and chuck steaks that covered the wooden island on polished silver platters. Dishes of chicken, pork, and lamb added to the colourful array of meats, offering an alternative to everyone’s tastes and favors.

There were large serving bowls of vegetables, beans, and salads lining the counters, and stacks of plates that reached a foot high, placed in any open spots that were left. Drinking glasses and silverware were being speedily transferred to the three lengthy and parallel dining tables by whomever had taken it upon themselves to deal with the table setting, and crystalline salt and pepper shakers were shakily bundled in one female human’s folded-up apron as she shuffled across the floor.

Harry and Zayn backed up to let the chefs do their business, and their eyes drifted to the horde of people that stood in groups and pairs against the wall and around the tables. Harry instantly spotted Louis speaking animatedly with Niall and Jenner, and to their near right, Martin and his alleged Tanner were talking in hushed tones and close proximity.

Harry fondly crept on their bubble of seclusion, studying Tanner with objective and impartial eyes. He was short like Martin, maybe even shorter, which was no doubt a factor of Martin’s admiration, and his frame was thin and meager. He had tight, curly locks of brown hair that floated all around his head like a halo of fluff, and his face was sporadically dotted with tiny birthmarks, one permanently resting upon the right side of his upper lip, right where it met the skin. His eyes were a darker brown than his gravity-disobedient, cute little afro, and swimming with a kind warmth; his lips full and round, teeth white as pearls when he smiled, but characteristically crooked and imperfect.

In other words, more perfect for Martin than his wildest dreams could have conjured. Martin had occasionally listed what features his ideal human would possess over the centuries, including constellation-type freckles, big and curly hair, and chocolate eyes wrapped up in a travel-sized height, so Tanner fatedly matched the overall fantasy he’d spoken of with astounding precision. Martin hadn’t been kidding—he _was_ absolutely perfect.

As Harry was making his meaningful assessments, Harlock, who had strode up and put an arm around the redheaded Jenner, noticed him and Zayn stood motionlessly across the room and waved them over jovially. Harry elbowed Zayn and waited for a break in the traffic of busy kitchen workers, the two sliding through and making their way over to their people.

“Harry, my friend! I trust you had fun earlier,” Harlock laughed, squeezing Jenner’s arm to convey he’d definitely had his.

“You know me,” Harry said in lieu of an inappropriately detailed response, his arms automatically wrapping around Louis as the human burrowed into his chest.

Zayn took Niall in the same fashion, and they partook in small talk while they filled the waiting time. Martin’s eyes kept routinely landing on his group over Tanner’s shoulder, and it became apparent that he couldn’t take keeping the secret crush to himself anymore, gently turning Tanner around and walking him over to complete the empty spot their circle had left for him. Harry had seen this coming.

“I’d like to introduce you all to Tanner,” he said to his Fortwright family, Harlock and Jenner looking ecstatic that the lonely Tanner had been chosen by someone who saw his worth. “Tanner, this is my maker, Harry,” he began, letting the two shake hands before moving on down the line. He’d already given descriptions of his company to Tanner two hours ago while they’d talked and exchanged life through Tanner’s blood, so all he needed to do was put faces to the names. “This is his inexplicable lover, Louis,” he said, Louis interrupting the conveyer belt naming process to throw his arms around Tanner’s unsuspecting form.

“Hi, Tanner!” he said loudly over the noise of the area, giving a tight squeeze and letting him go.

“Hi,” Tanner laughed, immediately feeling the pull to befriend the bright ball of energy. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Louis. I hope we can be friends,” he said genuinely.

Tanner’s voice was higher than Louis had expected for a boy his age, but it only added to his full checklist of adorableness. “We already are,” he assured with a familiar grin, returning to Harry’s side and pointedly ignoring the handful of his butt that Harry instinctively groped.

“I’ll take over from here,” Tanner said, turning his attention to Zayn and pursing his lips as he tried to recall the names Martin had educated him on in-between sessions of lip-locking and blood-drinking. “This is Zayn,” he said surely once he’d gotten it, holding his hand out for another shake.

“Correctamundo,” Zayn lilted with a charmingly lopsided smile, firmly grasping the boy’s hand and giving a singular shake.

“And this is Niall, Zayn’s lover and Louis’ best friend,” he finished, the blonde squealing over the two equally important pieces of information Tanner had recited.

“All true,” Niall said brightly, going for the hug that Louis had sprung upon him. Human and vampire greetings were vastly different, especially when it came to vampires interacting with another’s chosen human. The immortals remained polite and neutral to avoid testing or challenging their fellow kin’s boundaries, but humans in the vampire world treated each other like siblings, hitting it off with each other so naturally because they tended to be the odd ones out, or so he’d gathered so far.

“I’m happy to meet all of you. Martin talked a lot earlier about how amazing you all are,” Tanner gushed, his facial expression spelling out that he considered Martin’s appraisal to be justly placed.

“Well let me be the one to add that Martin is quite the amazing being himself,” Harry said, positive that Martin would have been far too nervous and self-conscious to blab about his own accomplishments and skills. “I saved this little mess of freckles from the French Revolution, and the world will never find a more devoted and dependable butler than him. I would have been at times completely lost and useless without him to calm me down or cheer me up, and I care so very deeply for the snarky bastard he’s grown to be, no doubt a side-effect of being around me so constantly,” he said, his entire collection of compliments taking the backseat because they would all be standing here for hours if he got them all out.  

Tanner’s eyes sparkled with admiration from Harry’s heartfelt speech, and he slid his hand into Martin’s, interlocking their fingers and leaning his head on the butler’s shoulder. “I’ve only known him a short while, but already he’s swept me off my feet. You all feel like family, it’s the weirdest thing. I’ll be so sad to see you go,” he lamented, Martin tensing at his side while Niall and Louis’ faces fell in sadness—they hadn’t thought about that. They couldn’t stay here.

Jenner did his thing when the theme of the conversation molded into something nobody wanted to address, clapping his hands together and stealing the spotlight. “Then let’s waste no time!” he said flippantly, pretending he wasn’t even remotely affected by the harsh truth of their reality, but of course it struck a heartstring or two. “Come on, I’m starving. Time to feast,” he said, snapping the neckline of every human’s shirt to get them moving.

They perked up at the thought of food and each gave their vampire a short but emotion-packed kiss, scuttling to the dining tables in a smushed line as the vampires hung back and admired them from afar. They sat at the closest table and waited until everyone else had finished their last minute preparations, looking up at Jenner in confusion when the warlock stood and tapped his wine glass with a butter knife.

“May I have your attention?” he asked the room, smiling when the entire human faction of Harlock’s community twisted around and respectfully silenced their bantering. “As you may know, we have a new addition to the family, for however long they choose to stay. Harlock’s long standing friend, Harry, contacted us in a time of need, and we must all show them the friendly manner in which we live our lives, starting with a party that will be held after dessert,” he said, a short cacophony of hoots breaking out at his words.

“I’d like you to meet Louis and Niall,” he concluded with a point to each, “and their vampires behind me, Harry, Zayn, and Martin,” he concluded, each immortal having raised their hand as their name was called. “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know them, but try to remember those names. Nobody likes repeating their name a hundred times in one night,” he reasoned, everyone chuckling at the relatable truth of the statement. “Alright, dig in,” he relented, sitting back down as everyone clapped and did exactly as he asked.

Bowls were handed down the lines of people in a somewhat orderly fashion, the holder either dishing some of the contents onto their plate, or simply passing it along if they did not want whatever it was.

Louis swooned as he was greeted with a beautiful assortment of peppered vegetables, happily spooning an overload of lima beans, corn, boiled carrots, broccoli, and asparagus onto his empty plate. He then reached beside one of the many flower vases on the table for the wooden block—each of which was positioned every fourth or so chair down—that harbored buttery breadsticks, plucking two steamy and smooth sticks from their bed of burgundy cloth napkins.

The meat platters were close enough together that Louis could hand his plate to Tanner and ask for a chuck, his mouth watering as he got it back. He looked around for something else that looked tempting, but he had extracted enough by this point to fill his stomach up, so he set aside his searching and focused on what he had. And by god, was it delicious. The cooks really surpassed anything that Stacey could ever create, that was for sure. _No. I won’t think about Mom right now. I will not._

He stabbed his steak with his fork and cut into it with the complimentary steak knife, throwing a pinch of salt on his bite before shoving it into his mouth, a guttural groan of approval vibrating his throat.

“Good, huh?” a heavily bitten blue-eyed girl with high, blonde pigtails and dental braces giggled, taking a bite of her black beans and covering her mouth as she chewed.

“It’s amazing,” Louis drawled, swallowing quickly and chasing it down with a sip of ice water so that he could better speak to her. “Who does all of this?”

“It depends on what kind of food it is. I mean like culturally. We have members  from all different regions of the world, and they specialize in their own delicacies, you know?” she explained, Louis and Niall nodding their comprehension. “But today was mostly Erakus, Marley, and Jet,” she added, briskly scouring the vampires in the back for the three she’d mentioned, but giving up when she didn’t immediately find them.

“Are those vampires?” Niall asked, his brows coming together in confusion: vampires cooked? He supposed they would know how, but it didn’t quite compute. They wouldn’t even be able to eat what they prepared.

“Yeah,” the girl affirmed, laughing because she recognized Niall’s expression; she’d had it once too. “A lot of the cooks here either enjoyed it as a pastime when they were human, or simply learn how to when they get here to be helpful. We humans will join in too sometimes, but they like providing for us themselves.”

“That’s really sweet of them,” Louis fawned, his meal getting that much tastier after discovering it had been made with love and appreciation.

“Yeah, it is,” the girl agreed, collecting another spoonful of beans and pouring them onto her fork that had impaled a few pieces of salad.

“What’s your name?” Louis asked, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with the napkin that had been folded in a triangle under the edge of his plate.

“I’m Missy,” she replied, reaching her hand over to shake Louis’.

Louis quickly wiped his hand and held it out, smiling into her eyes as she amicably did the same. “Nice to meet you, Missy. I’m Louis.”

“And I’m Niall,” the blonde added, repeating the greeting gesture.

“Pleasure,” she said to both, erupting into more friendly talk between them, Tanner included by default.

 

~~~

 

“Your Louis is quite the vision,” said a vampire with a heavy Australian accent to Harry’s immediate left, obviously capturing Harry’s full attention with such a personal statement.

“And you are?” Harry asked, his eyes of assessment finding nothing out of the ordinary with the amber-coloured haired, simply dressed and respectably mannered immortal.

“Marley,” the vampire said with a grin, offering his deepest bow to Harry, and only stopping when the Roman raised him back up with a firm grip under his chin.

“Please,” Harry requested, shaking his head at the formal proceedings he’d grown so accustomed to. It didn’t feel right when he was putting them all in more danger than they could comprehend. “Not here.”

Marley raised without another word and smiled politely, taking his leave when he felt the time was right, blending into the crowd around them and leaving their interaction in their memories.

Marley’s kind words had struck Harry with fierce pride; Louis _was_ a damn vision.

Harry watched the indelicate eating of his lover with somehow newfound worship of the human brewing in his heart, stifling a smile at the shameless sight being played out before his eyes. Louis tended to talk with his hands a lot, and him talking with his fork instead, swinging the utensil around and launching little bits and crumbs off the prongs and into the air, was exceptionally hilarious. No matter what, he was beautiful.

Harry was happy that Louis and Niall were bonding so well with the humans around, sparking up lively conversation with their most closely seated individuals as though they’d all been friends for years. He hated facing the fact that he’d have to rip them all from this comforting atmosphere; it really didn’t please him at all to uproot their blip of happiness, but Auron is always out there...always looking for a chance to fuck a good balance up.

Zayn seemed to sense his regret, and he leaned into his side, speaking in hushed tones because he didn’t know who around was aware of their most-wanted status within an army of brain-washed immortals. That knowledge may greatly unnerve these peaceful residents, and he wouldn’t want Harlock to be the sole voice of frantically-needed reassurance. “Harry, it’s not your fault that your brother hates you.”

Harry gave a painfully unamused laugh, leaning over as well to whisper back to his somehow still ignorant best friend. “How can you not understand yet? It _is_ my fault. My fault I didn’t kill him any of the thousand times I had the perfect opportunity. He’s walking this Earth, able to keep causing such devastating ruckuses, _only_ because of my weak hesitation to end it once and for all. I should have destroyed him after losing Antinous, _definitely_ after Damianos, but I fucking didn’t, and then my _Alexander_ had to die as a result,” he bit sourly, a few vampires glancing over at his growingly dark aura.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’m just saying like...I don’t know. You’re not responsible for his insanity,” Zayn amended, trying his best to drag Harry back from the cliff of fury’s jagged edge.

“No, only his insane actions,” Harry muttered, following the rope of Zayn’s soothing tone and walking himself back to neutrality.

“Don’t forget you got Alexander back. You’re not going to lose him again,” Zayn promised, unknowing of the future, but not of Harry’s strength and righteousness.

“You’re damn right,” Harry huffed, stalking forward and wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders, temporarily startling him before he got a relaxed sigh and a return of the embrace. “Having fun?” he asked, giving polite smiles to his old and newfound friends.

“Yeah, this food was so good, my stomach is about to explode,” Louis breathed, extending his neck upward and puckering his lips for a kiss.

Harry complied and dipped down to plant his lips on Louis’ hopeful ones, getting interrupted by Jenner standing once again and making a secondary announcement.

“If everyone could give the crew a few moments to get dessert ready,” he said, everyone already understanding what that meant and standing from their chairs to crowd the walls with the vampires.

Louis and Niall followed suit and skipped over to Martin and Zayn, not actually having to wait that long for the vampires to speed through the kitchen and replace all the dinner plates with clean dessert ones. They then took the pies and cakes out of the enormous refrigerator, grabbing knives and cutters for each, and plopped them down on the tables, spacing them out evenly for the humans who would consume them.

“Too full for dessert?” Harry teased at the blankly staring Louis, his eyes appearing to be glued onto one of the cherry pies.

“I’m _never_ too full for pie,” Louis defended as though it was an insult to insinuate such a crime, Niall hopping from foot to foot beside him in anticipation.

Jenner gave the call when the vampires backed away from their confectionery decorating, a swarm of humans propelled toward their seats like they’d been thrown. Louis, Niall, Tanner, and Missy dove back into their seats, and round two of platter-handing commenced.

This part of the meal went by much faster than dinner had, each sweet-toothed person inhaling their treats without too much talking between bites, savoring the taste of whatever their favourite flavour of pie happened to be—this selection held all possible options.

Not long after they’d begun, the humans had completely cleaned their plates, and they collectively stood once more to give the vampires room to clean up after them like they all got paid for it; it was astonishing that they did all this because they wanted to. Louis would have to thank that tall black-haired vampire with _really_ good eyebrows that Missy had finally been able to point out as Erakus when he had the chance. He was a ridiculously talented immortal.

Louis melted into Harry’s arms—arms that were burdensome to be away from for any extended period of time— _beside himself_ that such small and simple contact could feel so much like coming home after being far away on business. He lazily smiled when he glanced over and found his best friend in the same hold, and even further at his best butler who had Tanner identically as well.

They truly were like a happy family, and the happiness between them strongly perforated the air, each creature intermittently sighing in pure bliss at the arrangement.

When all the dishes had been snatched from the tables, and the heavy tablecloths whipped off their mahogany surfaces, Jenner took the role of the announcer again and held his hands in the air, clapping only twice before the residents shushed each other and faced him. “Alright!” he shouted, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he pointed his two index fingers in a direction that everyone already seemed to understand the implication of. “Party time!”

The room hollered and sprinted off in the way Jenner had brought attention to, leaving the unfamiliar group, minus Tanner, to look at Harlock imploringly.

“It’s just the humans’ favourite room,” Harlock said with a shrug, pulling Jenner into his hip with force and leading him off down the hall, assuming that his guests would follow when they felt like it.

Louis spun around and pressed his chest to Harry’s, his hands lazily coming together over the back of the vampire’s neck, propping himself up on his tiptoes to steal a kiss. He smiled against the lips he was granted with, opening his eyes before the kiss broke to admire the layout of Harry’s eyelashes against his cheeks. “Seems like a dumb time to party, doesn’t it? With everything going on…” he said vaguely, only opposing the idea because he figured that’s what the notoriously logical Harry would say.

“On the contrary,” Harry shockingly argued, pushing Louis off toward where Harlock’s community had retreated, the other two couples bouncing along beside them. “Now’s the perfect time to party. With the ominous future lain on our path, well...you deserve much more than a mere party, but you’d best take what you can get,” he chuckled, the sway of Louis’ hips as he gracefully walked ahead of him stirring up a little desire in his gut.

The closer to this infamous room they got, the clearer the music spilling out from the doorway became, Louis and Niall jumping for joy when they simultaneously figured it out.

“Let’s get wasted!” Louis mischievously opted, correctly assuming there’d be alcohol to consume, breaking into a jog to reach the environment he already knew he’d thrive in. “Hurry up, you fossils,” he called behind him, “ _This is the dawning of the Age Of Aquarius_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HARMONY AND UNDERSTANDING. SYMPATHY AND TRUST ABOUNNNDDDINNGGG. Okay, sorry. That's my jam tho. See you next time.


	8. Party In The Age Of Aquarius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 chapters done so far. Also for those sending me asks about me "forgetting" Stacey and Troy, you're just gonna have to trust that I know what I'm doing ;)

Louis slid into the party room, and in his opinion, the title aptly lived up to its expectation. The spacious room was boxed in with wood-paneled walls, including the ceiling, and brown shaggy carpet coated the floor, the feeling beneath his toes reminding him so very much of his parents’ house.

There was a hunky, intricately framed television set propped up by four table legs pushed against the far wall, complete with two built-in speakers on either side, and two tall antenna stalks making a wide ‘V’ shape that almost audibly told you to “live long and prosper.” The TV itself was displaying a muted rerun of _Dark Shadows_ in brilliant colour, and such a show could not be more ironically viewed by its immortal audience.  

Among the handful of attentive vampires poking fun at the show’s overplayed and inaccurate depictions of their species, many couples were only borrowing the surrounding couches for a space to make out with and drink blood from their humans.

Tearing his eyes away from the hilariously coincidental late-night television broadcast, Louis hungrily ate up everything else the room had to offer: an alcohol bar in the far right corner with a lifetime supply of bottles surrounding it in a halo, a bulky jukebox and three record players consecutively lined to the left of it—the middle of which being the one that was belting out the otherworldly tones of _Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In_ by The 5th Dimension—and a shimmering disco ball above that the dotted the whole room in dazzlingly white diamonds.

A ways past the television set and the L-shaped couches that fenced it in, huddled in the left side of the room, Louis saw a full-out poker table, a foosball table, and little side tables surrounded by suspended egg chairs that hung from their ceiling hooks, all separately dedicated to chess, checkers, backgammon, and Chinese checkers, a hearty amount of players crowding the games in the hopes of winning big.

Louis also noticed a section of the ceiling was dressed in dart boards that had been nailed to the wood so vampires could idly lean back and launch pointy darts into the bullseye target of the boards—because how could they ever miss—but what Louis was drooling over most was apart from all of this.

For centered in the right side of the room, perpendicular to the bar, illuminated by a low-hanging, stained-glass light source, was a pristine billiards table slyly calling his name, its complementary cue sticks, ranging in length to fit all potential measurements of a player's height, nestled in their designated slots against the nearest wall, pulling Louis to his immediate right.

“You thinkin’ what I'm thinkin’?” Niall asked excitedly, his eyes having also traveled to the currently open pool table.

“Of course,” Louis scoffed, his fingers delicately tracing down the smooth sticks while he sussed out the perfect one. He found his match and snapped it out of its rubber clamp, additionally swiping a chalk cube from the top ledge and striking it across the cue stick’s rounded head.

He carried both to the table and dropped the cube onto the polished frame, letting Niall place all the balls in the triangle rack. “We need to be drunk first,” he decided, looking over his shoulder while he strode to the bar to give Niall further instructions, “Round up two more people!”

He then turned back around to watch where he was going, and skipped up to the bar that was apparently being managed by Erakus. “Erakus, is it?” he greeted, the scrawny, knob-jointed and particularly handsome immortal lifting two flawlessly sculpted eyebrows above blue eyes so bright, they could be silver.

“So...the Princess notices the pauper,” he sighed, a teasing glint in his fierce irises.

“What?” Louis squeaked, flabbergasted at the odd first impression the immortal had given. _Is he serious?_

“Nothing,” Erakus chuckled, snorting into his chest before raising his head back up and meeting Louis mismatched eyes. “What can I get you?”

Louis shook off his confusion and squinted at the extensive collection of bottles behind the vampire’s dazzling form, his inexperience with alcohol hindering a quick answer. “Four glasses of...I'm not sure,” he admitted, that all-powerful smirk of Erakus’s finding its way back onto his face.

“How am I ever to help you if neither of us know what you want?” he mocked, lining four glasses up regardless. He pushed away from the bar and languidly wiggled his long, heavily ringed fingers as he contemplated which bottle to snag, displaying sharp claws that had been painted black with polish.

He seemed to make up his mind as he closed a fist around the neck of a crystalline bottle containing amber-coloured liquid, spinning back to the bar and uncapping the selection, evenly pouring its contents into the four glasses he’d acquired.

“Whiskey should work,” the vampire quipped with a lopsided smile, setting the bottle down as he leaned in dangerously close, resting his bony elbows on the surface of the bar. “Although…” he murmured in a quieter tone, a graceful swish of his wrist vaguely gesturing to the pool table behind them. “Might wanna take it easy,” he warned in a silky voice, Louis hanging on his every word. “If you're playing against Jenner, you're gonna lose.”

Louis followed the direction of Erakus’s striking eyes, noticing first that Harry, Zayn, Martin, and Harlock were stood in front of the cue sticks to patronizingly watch the game, and then secondly discovering that Erakus had been right; Niall had paired himself with the warlock Jenner, leaving Louis on a team with the helpless looking Tanner.

“Shit,” he laughed in agreement, eyeing the multiple glasses and realizing he couldn't carry them all at once by himself. “Help me with these?” he asked politely, fully aware that Erakus could totally refuse and leave him hanging.

The vampire surprised him by taking two of the four glasses, and walking out from behind the bar to deliver the goods.

He smiled at Erakus and got an eyeroll in return, both balancing the alcoholic beverages on the raised sides of the pool table. “Thanks,” he said brightly.

“Just don't puke on the carpet, then we'll be even,” he proposed, taking his leave with a parting smirk, walking first to the Elder Harry and bending down in an uncharacteristically respectful bow, then strutting off to his bar.

 _He's a weird one,_ Louis internally noted, his eyes finding his ancient lover’s and likely sparkling as a direct result.

“You ready?” Niall asked with a raised glass in hand, waiting for Louis to get the idea lift his own for a clinking cheers.

Louis grasped his glass, meeting the three others in the middle. “Prepare to die,” he lilted, bringing the drink to his lips and knocking back his first shot of real hard liquor. It took everything in him not to spit it right back out. He swallowed the ingestible gasoline and held it down with determination to ignore the screams of protest from his gag reflex, slamming the glass down on the table and rasping out a hoarse growl of disgust. “What the fuck was that?” he whined, Tanner barking out a laugh and clapping him on the back.

“That, my dear Louis, was whiskey,” he informed, downing the rest of his half-drunk glass before cracking his knuckles and retrieving his cue stick from where it had been leaned against the table.

“It’s not _that_ bad, Lou,” Niall defended, a contradictory look of unease puckering his lips.

“It’s not once you get used to it,” Jenner said, his glass now empty as well, collected by the helpful Harlock to return to Erakus.

Louis eyed the glass of fire in suspicion, finding its contents to be one of the worst flavours he’d ever encountered. He didn’t understand how his Father managed to drink shit like this all day long, but then again, Troy was a relatively disgusting person, so the comparison fit rather nicely. He pinched his nose and gulped the remainder down, breathing pointedly through his mouth so he wouldn’t catch wave of that gnarly aftertaste.

Harry glided over once he was finished and eased the glass out of his clenched fist, passing it over to Harlock who was still on standby and rubbing at Louis’ sides. “Can I have a taste?” he whispered against his neck, taking the moan Louis let out as a yes. He drove his discreet fangs into Louis’ skin, watching carefully at the excess of people around them to ensure nobody was getting any misplaced ideas. Luckily, everyone seemed busy with their own lovers, or busy in general, so Harry let his eyes fall closed as he drank the alcohol-contaminated blood at his disposal.

He released his human when he felt the surprisingly quick effects spread through his veins, realizing he was already drunk and had skipped the tipsy phase entirely. Befitting for Louis’ blood having its first ever dance with whiskey. “Thank you, love,” he said softly, patting Louis’ scrumptious arse and backing away to let the game begin.

Louis gave him a sweet smile for a “you’re welcome,” and faced his teammates, each of them plenty focused and prepared to play this game until the last ball standing was pocketed.

 

\---

 

Louis and Tanner were already off to a bad start; Jenner had pocketed two solids on his break shot, and then one more afterward just to rub it in. Louis figured he probably lost that third turn on purpose to keep the game moving...talented prick. Louis was substantially drunk, and it had happened quick, but there was no denying it. His motor skills were suffering tragic losses, but he lined up his cue ball with a striped that was just teetering on the edge of a pocket, sending a quick prayer up to Zeus. He shot as straight as he could, making it in perfectly without the cue ball following after like it was almost surely going to, and screeching his pride of the play to the heavens.

The game carried on as an intoxicated blur of defeated groans and victorious chants, the group forgetting more than once whose turn it was, but taking their best guess and keeping the match moving anyway. The humans’ vampires occasionally strode up to give them kisses when they made a good shot, but in Louis and Tanner’s case, they had to come up to offer no more than moral support and encouragement.

It was Louis’ muddled understanding that he was most egregiously sucking his way through this game, but his vivid enthusiasm was nevertheless attracting all sorts of attention, including Erakus’s, who abandoned his post behind the bar to offer suggestions and give pointers where they could be utilized. Half of the time, Louis thanked Erakus when he whispered clues and hints about the best available opportunities, the other half, he snapped at him to butt out and mind his own business. Luckily he never did.

Money and bets had annoyingly been placed on the teams by this point, because the drunker Jenner became from his bottomless refills, the less his warlock status seemed to help him and Niall in this worthy battle of geometry and physics. Good. Having warlock powers be of any assistance to him in such a game was unforgivable cheating, anyway, and Louis was stoked that he’d been knocked down to size.

Tanner made an unprecedentedly worthy shot down the length of the table, knocking the cue ball straight into purple ‘12’ striped one, creating a perfect right angle and propelling the ball into the side pocket.

“Yes, Tanner!” Louis slurred shrilly, wrapping his forearm around the boy’s neck and jumping for joy.

Tanner choked out a laugh and joined the celebration, sobering up when his one in a million play set up the most ideal rebuttal for Jenner’s last solid. Louis and Tanner watched with their hearts in their hands as Jenner angled his trajectory and took several slow breaths to enter the mindset of unshakable concentration. Louis even dared to cross his fingers as the redhead pulled the cue stick back through his bridge, shooting it forward on an exhale like he was a professional or something.

Time slowed as the gently clashed yellow 1-ball crept toward the corner pocket, tempting and taunting the opposing team on its way to certain success. It balanced on the edge for a hair of a second, sauntering off into the hole and crushing Louis’ dreams. “No!” he mourned, sizing up his and Tanner’s three more striped balls, to the lone and dastardly 8-ball for Jenner and Niall to hit and win the game. The odds were not great.

Jenner repeated his dramatic preparations, smiling at the chant of his name that had sprung about in the tense moment. He didn’t have a crystal clear shot at the 8-ball, but if he could defy the laws of reality one more time like he already had several times so far, the gold was his. He shocked everyone by switching the hand of his bridge, shooting with his right instead for optimum routing.

 _Of course you’ll make it with your non-dominant hand_ , Louis snarked in his head, not actually letting a lighthearted game affect his mood—he just liked to complain. He held his breath as Jenner sped up the heavy pause, just going for it and seeing what happened.

A direct hit.

Niall shrieked and jumped into Jenner’s arms as the crowd erupted in approbation, Louis and Tanner bending at the hips to half-lay on the table and contemplate their dwindling worth.

“Some of those shots were damn good,” Harry praised, laughing at Louis’ disapproving face.

“Don’t condescend, darling,” Louis sighed, cheering up as his loss ceased to matter, smiling against Harry’s lips and only breaking the sudden kiss from Harlock tapping on both of their shoulders.

“Hate to interrupt, but there are some things we should discuss now,” the ruler of the house said sympathetically, Harry giving a sharp nod and guiding Louis through the game room doors.

Always something to discuss.

Upon exiting the party, they found that Jenner, Niall, Zayn, Martin, and Tanner were already waiting outside in the hall for them, and neither understood how they hadn’t noticed everyone disappearing so quickly. “What’s this about?” Louis asked, Harlock beginning an intentional stroll down the hall and inciting a line to trail behind him.  

“Well, we know Harry wants to plan ahead of time, and preferably soon, am I right?” he asked, looking back at his old friend to make sure that now was an acceptable time.

“Correct,” Harry affirmed, looking around as they entered a type of study/office that he already knew Harlock only had for show.

Harlock walked around the heavy desk and toggled the handle of one of its drawers, dumping a wide variety of maps onto the surface and beckoning everyone forward as he sat down in his swivel chair.

Harry took up one of the chairs and settled Louis onto his lap, sliding the paper maps across the dark wood and opening the first one at random. Jenner politely took it for him and helped open it all the way because he had both hands to spare, pointing to the route that led into North Dakota. “We’ve kinda been thinking that North Dakota is a good place to go,” he said, the ‘we’ obviously referring to himself and Harlock. “It’s quite unsuspecting, and I highly doubt it would be the first place that an enemy would look.”

Harry thought it over, and was close to answering when Louis did it for him.

“Actually, the fact that it’s so barren is kind of a problem. Like...maybe it’s out there in the middle of nowhere and all, but how does that help if he does check there? Our trail will be a lot easier to follow if there’s like nothing else around. And then there’s not a lot of places to shake a follower off. Not like blending into a city and mixing a lot of scents at once, that is,” he said intelligently, everyone taking a second to think over his reasonable words.

“You have a valid point,” Harlock sighed, turning the map back around for his viewing and running through all the other possible options. “Jen, dear, could you summon Erakus for me?” he asked warmly, Jenner moving to the center of the room and closing his eyes.

Louis wondered what the hell he was doing if not leaving the room to go tell Erakus to come over in person, but he didn’t need to wait long to have the mystery unfurl. Jenner’s skin suddenly began to glow a brilliant golden hue, and he made a few quick and indistinguishable hand signs, gathering some type of concentrated energy and speaking, “Erakus,” with perfect pronunciation, focusing the magic into his left hand and dropping down into a kneel, slapping his palm onto the thick carpet and supposedly sending a message of requested presence to the vampire in question.

He then took a deep breath, and released all the energy he’d cultivated in that short span of time, his skin losing its ethereal luminance and returning to its usual colour, the warlock stepping back to Harlock’s side as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

None of the vampires, or Tanner, seemed particularly wowed or impressed by the sight they’d just witnessed, but Louis was glad that Niall was in his same boat of astonishment.

“Did he just…” the blonde began, losing the rest of his sentence because words were suddenly difficult to formulate.

“How did you…” Louis tried, failing as well in his attempt of a completed thought, partly due to Erakus appearing through the doorway with an expectant and casual look on his unperturbed face.

“You rang?” he asked boredly, Harlock waving him closer without looking up from the map below his eyes. Erakus valiantly stifled an eyeroll and obeyed the silent order, peering over the desk and furrowing his brows. Why the hell was everyone obsessing over a map?

“Erakus, what has become of your people in Northern California?” Harlock inquired as he turned the map to face his best and most distinguished fighter, interlocking his fingers and resting the joined fist above Montana.

Erakus scratched at his jet black, 1950’s greaser styled hair (without the overload of grease) as he attempted to unlock the meaning behind the question, giving in when he couldn’t figure it out quick enough. “They’re still there, why?”

Harlock slowly nodded while he pieced the puzzle together, turning his eyes to his guests and suggesting what was on his mind. “How would you feel about going to Tahoe?”

Harry and Louis’ eyes met only for a split second because there was nothing to be discussed; the desperate group had no specific aversions to anywhere, as long as it wasn’t Idaho, or in Harry’s case, Rome. “It doesn’t matter to us where we go,” Harry answered for them all, nobody speaking in opposition to his claim.

“Erakus, would you be willing to make a phone call to the Sparrow coven and let me speak to William, or if not, perhaps Veronica?” he asked the wary vampire, no doubt driving him mad with what little information he was giving.

“Er...yeah, I guess,” Erakus relented, holding his hand out for the telephone that sat consistently ignored on the office desk. Harlock sighed in relief and pushed the device closer to him, Erakus lifting the handset from its base and wrangling the tangled cord out of the way. He spun the dial to the number he couldn’t forget if he tried, grabbing the base of the telephone and taking the whole thing with him as he crossed the room to sit upon a window seat.

The room’s occupants waited in quiet patience, each couple tending to their lover and giving them little sparks of affection until they all twisted around to watch Erakus’s entertaining conversation.

“How did you possibly—!....Yeah, it’s me, you were right….Of course I am….Yup, still here….Yeah, Harlock is fine. No, Elijah....No....Listen, I need you to—what? No….Get the old man on the phone….I don’t _care if he’s_ ….Yeah, I’ll wait,” he muttered reluctantly, his eyes catching everyone’s intrigued stares, lips giving an award-winning but clearly cynical grin to tell them it was /sort of/ working.

“Heyo!” he then greeted in a warm and friendly tone, shifting his body toward the window and giving his unapproachable back to the creatures who were so vitally depending on him but wouldn’t even tell him why. “I’ve been fine….But—but that’s not why I’m calling….Yeah, I have someone here who wants to talk to you….Harlock, yeah….you know, I’m not really sure, but I have a feeling he’ll tell you. No, I _highly doubt_ he’s kicking me out,” he laughed, his face paling (even more so than usual) as he met Harlock’s bemused face. “You’re _not_ kicking me out, are you?” he shakily asked, visibly relaxing when Harlock snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m groovy,” he said into the phone, listening for a few more beats before saying, “Got it,” and dropping the object into Harlock’s expectant hand.

“Hello, William?” Harlock said with a thunderingly powerful tone, definitely a few notches above his general speaking tone. “Good to hear from you as well. Veronica is well, I hope?.... _Ahh_ , lovely….Yes, yes, Jenner is doing beautifully….I know, it truly was, I’m a lucky monster….yeah….yeah….Will, I’ve had Era call to bring something rather complicated to your table, but I’d like you to keep an open mind….I have here an old friend of mine who needs protection from a lively bunch that seek to do him, and his human, great harm….His name is Harry….Louis….Ancient Rome….Fit as a fiddle, but he’s found himself in quite the jam….An immortal butler, and another friend with his human…”

Tanner cringed at the empty lack of himself popping up in the list of travelers, but Martin only held him tighter, already scheming how he would ensure Tanner’s escape with them.

Harlock laughed out loud, and most of the vampires did too, all three humans griping over the fact that they couldn’t hear what was happening.

“Yes, quite so,” Harlock continued, grinning into the mouthpiece and nodding as though the vampire on the other line could see the motion. “I suspect they wish to leave by tomorrow,” he said, meeting Harry’s eyes to once again confirm a fact he didn’t know.

Harry nodded surely and Louis’ face fell. He hated having to say goodbye to such a lovely place so soon after finding it. They’d have to come back when this all blew over... _if_ this all blew over.

“Rather gruesome lot….been tracking them for a while, made an attack two nights ago….lost their house and came here, but they do not wish to stay in case they’re endangering us in doing so….yes, that bad….I know you have superior defense systems, if my memory serves me well, it _has_ been ages….Yeah. Oh, you will? Ah that’s perfect, my friend....I’ll throw in some heavy funding, should you need it….Of course....Thank you so much, truly. I’ll let you talk to Erakus now, alright?” he said, Erakus frantically shaking his head flapping his arms in protest. “Alright….Alright, here he is….You too, bye bye now,” he concluded, glaring at Erakus until he caved and took the phone back.

“Yeah…?” Erakus sighed, shooting daggers into Harlock’s eyepatch the entire time because otherwise, he would get too intimidated by the scarily yellow shine of the intact eyeball. “ _Told_ you I was an asset here....Yes, I’m making friends....No, I don’t have a partner yet....Okay....In Canada, yeah....Give Susa and Kai my love....Will do....I’m gonna go now…. _Yes_ , I’ll come back for Christmas....Alright....Bye, Dad,” he groaned, slapping the phone down and cutting the call before he could get goaded into going for Thanksgiving too.

“ _Dad_?” Louis repeated with a dubious raise of his voice, never before encountering an actual vampire family (aside from Auron, but he doesn’t count). “Your Father is a vampire?”

“So is my Mother...and all my brothers and sisters. My uncles and aunts, cousins, but they're still in Finland. Uh, my grandparents—”

“What! That many?!” Louis shouted, Harlock coughing once to get the inhabitants of his office back on track.

“So here’s the address,” Harlock said, scribbling the address into a clear spot on the map. “I’ve set you up to take one of our vehicles that Erakus will come over and get back later, and I’ll give you some money to use for the journey—”

“Back up! _Please_ tell me you didn’t just say that,” Zayn begged, Harry close to choking him out for his skewed concepts of ‘priority.’

“Zayn, we can’t take your Camaro,” Harry shot down as quickly as Zayn’s spirits had dropped. “Not only could it have sustained more damage than we know of from the field, but Auron’s people know to look for that car. They’ve already copied that license plate number, I assure you. I know you love it, but you’re just gonna have to let this one go. We can get it back someday maybe,” he offered, annoyed he even had to make compromises at all. Zayn’s an adult; he should be able to fucking handle life’s knocks. 

Zayn’s face underwent a diverse array of emotion for the following moments, ultimately resigning to a thin-lipped, weary-eyed nod of his head, allowing the conversation to proceed and taking the backseat from then on.

Harlock had waited for them to come to an agreement, and when it looked they did, he continued. “ _This_ ,” he began, uncapping a permanent marker with his teeth and drawing a slow line along the path they were to follow, “is the route you’re gonna be taking. It goes south through Idaho to reach Boise, then you take the I-84 west into Oregon. From there, you’ll hop on the 105, and drive that south until you hit I-5,” he said, pausing as he cocked his head to the side and studied the map. “That’ll lead you in the direction of Tahoe. From there, you’ll have to follow signs, this doesn’t make any fucking sense,” he grumbled, squinting his eyes at the map and barely understanding what he was looking at.  

“I think we’ll be good from there,” Harry assured, swiping the map from the table and folding it three consecutive times, stashing it and the others in some hidden pocket inside his coat. “Thanks for all of this, I really do appreciate it, but...are you certain this place you’ve arranged for us is safe enough to guard against Auron’s people?”

“You doubting my family?” Erakus challenged without fire, getting his ankles slapped when Harlock finally noticed he’d crossed his feet on top of his desk.

“I don’t know your family. I’m concerned for what could happen if my brother finds out where we are,” Harry explained, a look of genuine empathy clouding his usually generic and unreadable expression.

“Well when you put it like _that_ ,” Erakus sighed, standing from his chair and patting Harry on the shoulder as he made his dramatic exit. “Don’t worry, champ. My Momma could take ‘em down with a frying pan.”

Harry sincerely doubted any accomplices of Auron could be taken down with _cookware_ , but if his brother sent expendables to do his dirty work again like the scene at his mansion, then they’d admittedly stand a pretty good chance. He could mow down the loyal worshipers with no issues; it was Auron himself that Harry was worried about...that beast was not the average adversary to face in battle. Always has a trick up his sleeve to make up for his inferior imbalance in strength. Looking even further past the looming threat of his brother, Harry’s true terrors lied within the ominous return of Azazel. If that demon of a maker ever found him, and he was actually unassailably set on ending Harry’s almost-life, no matter how unlikely that sounded, he’d never make it. That was fact, and it was final.  

“I propose we all go back to the party. There are more fun and easy times to be had before you take off on your own; you wouldn’t want to waste any of that luxury,” Harlock said, all parties able to agree with a statement like that.

“Race you to the bar,” Louis spoke quickly, jamming a light elbow into Niall’s stomach to get an unfair head start.

“Ugh, you bastard,” Niall giggled, chasing after his best friend and cheering up significantly when the sound of music floated back into their ears. They both reached and crossed the threshold at the exact same time, but Louis was adamant that his foot had made it through a half-second sooner. It was a fruitless debate to have, because no eyewitnesses had been present to referee, so Niall let him have it.

The boys skipped carelessly through the mass of hospitable creatures, gyrating their hips all the way to Erakus’s bar because one simply couldn’t dismiss the temptation to groove when met with Big Mama Thornton’s _Hound Dog_.

“More of that brown stuff,” Louis said when they’d arrived, Niall scrunching his nose and standing on his tiptoes to choose something else.

“Make that two vodkas,” the blonde ordered instead, Louis shrugging because he didn’t care what it was, it probably all tasted like shit.

They got their drinks from an amused Erakus and clinked their genuine shot glasses together, downing the clear liquid that smelled strongly of nail polish remover in one go. To Louis’ surprise, this one wasn’t _as_ bad as the whiskey. That didn’t mean he wanted a canteen of it on his person at all times, but it didn’t inherently make him want to vomit and cry, so that’s a step up.

The vampires, with Tanner, entered the room when Louis and Niall were on their third shot, both humans aware that getting drunk was a colossally brainless idea if they were truly leaving tomorrow on an extended road trip (or later today, since it was past midnight), but something in them refused to care. If this was the last night they got to be careless teens and get crazy, then they were going to live it up, no question.

Tanner happily joined in the alcohol consumption, but Louis had to take a break when the world started spinning, his clumsy self stumbling into Harry’s arms when the vampire finally made it all the way over to him.

“Whoa, easy there,” the vampire chuckled, fawning in fierce adoration over how cute Louis looked whilst drunkenly hiccuping. His related thoughts took him back to that night they’d gotten sloshed off wine, dancing around in the living room to The Grateful Dead and having unguarded fun falling deeper in love. How he wished they could go back to such simpler times, before the atomic bomb of Auron had been dropped from the fighter pilot’s aircraft—the pilot named “Azazel.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Louis slurred, seeing double of Harry’s face floating around in front of his own and trying to strictly follow one.

“Destroying you in bed tonight,” Harry deflected to get Louis hyped off the response, _and_ to direct his mind to a more pleasant subject. It was no lie either; he was going to ruin his lover tonight, and not even Jupiter himself would be able to stop him.

“Wrong,” Alexander suddenly growled into his ear with a shocking level of sobriety.

Harry choked and his mouth dropped open in astonishment. Okay. Maybe Jupiter couldn’t stop him...but Alexander certainly could. He reached out to pull the slyly retreating human right back in, halting all motion to bask in this intriguing and highly unanticipated moment. “Care to explain, Alex? You can’t do anything to me yet,” he chuckled into his Alex’s ear, the hand he’d slid down toward his arse getting swatted away with more force than that human body usually harnessed.

“ _I can do enough_. You’ve been moping around like a cowardly child ever since you heard something you didn’t like. I wish I could whip you into your pitiful place, and maybe I haven’t the strength for that just yet, but don’t think for one second that I’m not in here...watching you...and let me say, I am certainly not impressed. Where have you gone, Hadrian?”

“... _Gods_ , I missed your shit-talking,” Harry breathed with a blank and awed expression, Alexander’s infamous verbal abuse acting as a form of relaxing sedation. There were times when only Alexander calling him a brainless swine stopped him from making a terrible decision; likewise, getting called a coward now certainly made him want to find his courage.

“Well there's a lot more where that came from if you don't pull yourself together. Now shut up and dance with me to this horrendous music,” he commanded fondly—while Louis berated him on insulting Janis Joplin's _Piece of My Heart—_ spinning himself under Harry’s arm and pulling him into the middle of the room.

Harry grinned and spun Alexander again, and soon everyone was dancing with them, Harry’s group laughing to the ceiling and grinding against their lovers, the entire batch of partygoers forming together to create one big, overcrowded, sweaty heap of hormonally hip-shaking and sensually rocking bodies.

Alex and Louis didn’t know how long they’d been losing themselves to the impromptu disco; all they knew was the sensation of their sweltering chest tensing every time it brushed against Harry’s icy one, and the goosebumps that crawled across their numb, tingling skin whenever Harry’s palms traced the affected areas.

The earlier insinuation of sex was weighing them down like a thousand pounds of desire on their shoulders, controlling their every move and moment of suggestive eye contact. The time arrived in which they genuinely couldn’t take the wait any longer, and they grabbed a lock of Harry’s messy hair in their fist, presumptuously pulling him away from the bar and towards the door.

The other couples in the group felt the insistency, and their own wants and needs ruled over their judgment too, all six creatures making a mad dash for the doors to get into the privacy of their rooms.

Harry chased Louis and Alexander down the hall after they’d finally let go of his hair, the Roman swimming in a pool of glee because pulling and yanking on Harry’s hair like it was his own personal leash was something of a favourite act of Alexander’s...and it was definitely one of his favourites too.

They finally made it out into the living room and slowed to a stroll, reaching the narrow archway of the hallway to the bedrooms and almost getting run over for their short relapse of common sense.

So mentioned because Martin and Tanner unexpectedly zoomed past them in a heated blur, flying down the chamber and barely making it to the second door down before Martin’s fangs were lodged in the human’s neck. Louis, Alexander, and Harry could only stop and silently observe the scene before them, all extremely impressed with the shy butler’s decision to take his relationship with Tanner to the next level. It was almost like watching a child take its first steps, only with more blood and all around rabid behavior.

Tanner keened high in his throat and dug his nails into Martin’s quivering upper arms, both creatures desperately grinding their crotches together for friction. Martin pulled out of his neck and roughly spun him around, slamming his human’s chest back into the door and dropping to his knees behind him to fangedly bite his arse _through_ his jeans. Tanner gasped and clutched aimlessly at the smooth surface of the door, panting when Martin sprung back up and whipped him around again.

The reckless immortal finally realized they weren’t within the cover of their room yet, and he slapped at the door handle in annoyance to knock it open, shoving Tanner through the opening with an animalistic snarl of “ _Mine_ ,” directed right at Harry’s speechless form, then promptly slamming said door shut behind him, an overflow of loud and excessive moans soon filtering out from under the crack.

“Looks like Martin’s really going for it,” Harry chuckled proudly under his breath, sharing a look of equal amusement with Louis and Alexander before resuming their journey to their shared room, impervious to Niall and Zayn’s manic trample to their room at that moment.

“Did you see his eyes?” Louis asked, stretching on his tiptoes as he kicked the door shut behind him, the presence of Alexander thrumming in time with his own existence like a steady heartbeat, the two molded so perfectly that he wondered how he’d ever felt invaded by his manifestations.

“The red in his irises?” Harry specified, adoring the sight of his little Louis pondering the cause for the eye colouration. “Martin has blood-craze, that’s why they’re like that,” he explained, a soft moan spilling from his nose when his lover dashed forward and ripped his coat off his shoulders.

“I know that,” Alexander snapped, dropping to his knees and tearing Harry’s belt off his pants.

“Oh Gods,” Harry gasped, tumbling onto the bed when his stomach was given a harsh blow to back him up. “What are you going to do?” he asked, lifting his hips while his pants got yanked off.

“Maybe you don’t even have the right to ask. Ever think of that? You always think you’re in control. Always the hunter, always the supreme leader. So conceited, Hadrian. You’re so conceited,” Alex huffed with an eyeroll, wishing he still had his claws so he could rip Hadrian’s shirt to shreds. “You had Rome, but I had _Asia_.”

“In the _past_! Don’t forget I’m still the Elder in this dynamic,” Hadrian reminded sternly as he removed his top, truthfully just riling him to see how far this could go.

“Hadrian, don’t make me hit you,” Alexander warned, pausing all movement of his hungry hands to glare daggers at his Roman’s smirking face.

“I wish you would,” Hadrian purred, propping himself up on his elbows to get closer to the human straddling his hips.

“Then I won’t,” Alexander laughed, pushing him back down with his fingertips in the middle of Hadrian’s chest, then standing to get rid of his own clothes. He stripped down in record time, leaping onto the bed and standing over Hadrian’s curious form. It felt good to finally have some power, and Alexander let himself soak it all in, breaking their intermission to lower himself down directly over Hadrian’s face. “Get me wet,” he commanded over his shoulder, two ringed hands slamming onto his hips while the Roman’s tongue assaulted his hole as if it had been magnetized.

Alexander groaned as shivers shot up his back, subtly rolling his hips while Harry moved his delicious and numbing tongue in maddening circles around and on his entrance. Before he could climax, he changed the order, his left hand tapping at a spot right under his left arse cheek. “Bite me,” he said, his consequent moan world’s louder this time around.

Hadrian had instantly forced his fangs into the thick patch of flesh he'd been directed to, and now his hands were avidly sliding up Alexander’s sides to rake his nails back down, taking gulp after gulp of the blood that was tasting older by the day. His lover made high-pitched whines of encouragement, and his thighs quivered from the difficult act of holding himself up.

“This is a lot more intense than usual,” Alexander mentioned, lightly patting the side of Hadrian’s face to make him stop.

Hadrian pulled off with a heavy sigh of exertion, closing his eyes as he felt Alexander spin himself around and straddle his hips, considerately pumping Hadrian’s hardened cock behind him. “Because you’re a human now,” he panted, his eyes flying open as Alexander promptly guided his cock to his slicked hole and nestled his way down its length without warning. “Jupiter!” he cried, his nails digging into Alexander’s hip bones as his back arched off the bed.

“No more talking, my love,” Alexander ordered behind a moan, immediately working his hips to ride the life right out of the vampire underneath him, taking a few seconds to revel in the pleasure before he’d give up the reins.

Louis’ full awareness blasted back into his body, the ghost of Alexander sticking around to show him how to ride Harry’s cock like a champion. Once Louis had gotten his rhythm down, he was set loose, an entire new world of sex opened up for him due to the Macedonian’s instructive guidance.

_I leave the rest to you._

Louis grinned and sneakily took over for good, furiously slamming his hips down onto Harry’s pelvis while the vampire moaned and whimpered more submissively than Louis had ever seen. His power-trip over causing these sounds of his own volition was liberating to say the least, and he threw his head back in delight, laughing playfully into the heavy air.

“You fuck me so good,” Harry wheezed, denied access from the mere _opportunity_ to thrust his hips upward because his lover had full control over the entire session. “I could come like this.”

“You can and will,” Louis said as authoritatively as he could, matching Alexander’s pitch to conjure the same yield in the pliant Roman, proudly cultivating a hidden side of himself that he never would have found without Alex’s assistance. The side that held dominance.

Harry’s hands fell away from Alex’s hips, instead gripping the sheets of the bed and unfortunately cutting long lines into them from his extended claws. “Don’t stop,” he begged, his breathing jagged and desperate, his face shaped into the most textbook image of ecstasy.

And Louis didn’t stop. He pushed his fists down into the mattress and rode Harry for all he was worth, his hips locked in a constant down, back, and forward circle. His rhythm was dedicated and precise, and he fucked that addictive cock until he felt it fill him up, sweat from his face dripping onto Harry’s chest as the vampire shouted his orgasm to the wall behind him.

Louis promptly slowed his pace and tapered off into making tiny little ruts, the inward hiss through Harry’s clenched teeth almost sounding pained as he twitched from overstimulation. In light of that, Louis stilled his movements completely and settled down on Harry’s chest, resting his elbows straight on Harry’s ribs because he knew the vampire wouldn’t feel that kind of pain.

Harry still seemed lost for words, but he wiped the uncommon sweat from his brow and reached over for a pillow, throwing it behind his head to prop himself up and address his forceful lover. “Alex, that was—”

“Ah! Wrong again,” Louis announced with a devious wink, Harry’s eyes bulging as he rapidly sat up, taking the human with him until they were both upright and staring into one another’s faces.     

“That was all you?” Harry asked in worship, his arms snaking around Louis’ back as his heart pounded with love and adoration for his powerful human.

“Don’t forget we’re the same, but...yes, technically Alex left after he showed me what to do. How to drive you wild,” he purred, the stupefied look on Harry’s face sending him into a short spurt of giggles.

“You two are incredible,” Harry laughed in amazement, his shining eyes drifting down to Louis’ ignored cock. “Want any help with that?” he asked seductively, tipping them backward and rolling over while he gingerly pulled out of Louis’ body.

“Use that talented mouth of yours,” Louis said as his hole was abandoned, no trace of a polite request in the statement.

Harry caught the undeniable mandate and beamed down at his whole world of a soulmate, shuffling down his perfect body to adhere to the uncharacteristic order. “Alex taught you a lot, did he?” he chuckled, kissing down Louis’ stomach and running his tongue the rest of the way from his navel.

Louis sighed low in his throat and grabbed a fistful of Harry’s hair, gasping when Harry’s lips closed around his hard length and his head bobbed slowly up and down his shaft. “You can consider it payback for teasing me last night...besides,” he added as he took a break for a pleasured moan, “it was high time you were reminded that you’re not...an Elder in our eyes,” he finished, his knees flying up as Harry’s tongue did wonders under the head of his cock.

Harry’s green eyes opened and he peered up at his lover, Louis apparently finding the sight of eye contact while receiving head too much to bear, and falling back down on the mattress. Harry chuckled and kept up the good work, a weight lifted from his shoulders from finally getting lost in the authority of someone else. Of course Alexander wouldn’t see him as an Elder, but he’d been alone as the only one around for so long now that he’d almost completely forgotten what it felt like to be stripped of that title. _Just for tonight...I can be my young and stupid self again._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shaking to get the next few chapters out, holy shit. So stoked. Talk to me at tumblr any time if you have any questions. That I can answer without giving shit away, that is.  
> Also....for those who immediately caught it and will know what I mean by this, yes. that was a kuchiyose no jutsu.


	9. Harry's Mad At Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write. But don't worry...the next was insurmountably harder. Then it gets worse. Enjoy !! LOL xD

Louis woke up directly on top of his vampire, and it didn't quite make a whole lot of sense, but if he had to guess, he'd say that Harry had snatched him in his sleep and rolled him over to lie on his chest where he was closest—by default safest.

His immortal lover's grip around his back was definitely a strong one, and he was amazed he hadn't woken up with the sudden urge to fucking _breathe_. “Harry,” he whispered without any real hope, fidgeting around to find a way out of his current entanglement.

“Mm,” was Harry’s response, proving that whatever time it was, the sun was down.

Louis smiled into his pillow of chest and balanced his chin on the back of his hands. “Thanks for last night,” he said coyly, lifting himself to straddle Harry’s hips in an upright position. “That was nuts. Genuinely everything I could have wanted.”

Harry snorted in amusement, his exterior of superiority built back up after a round of sleep because he was still the protector in this relationship. His arms came up to stretch backward while he cracked an eye open at the lively Louis. Just one look at his love opened his other eye and brought a smile to his face, his hands falling back down to hold onto Louis’ hips. “Did you happen to...I forgot to ask this, we were kind of busy...but did you remember anything about Azazel last night?” he asked, berating himself over not interrogating Alexander while he had the chance. Sex has always destroyed his priorities—call it a weakness, but...well...

Louis’ face fell as he realized neither his nor Alexander’s thoughts had ever even leaned in that crucial direction. He groaned and rolled his eyes at himself, starting up a minor form of a chest massage on Harry to make his hands useful. “No...he kinda pops in randomly, and he doesn’t always do or say the most helpful things. In fact...in the sense of letting me in on his memories, I don’t think he’s ever really been particularly helpful,” he sighed, Harry laughing out his apparent understanding.

“That’s typical,” the vampire muttered, sitting up and trapping Louis in a cage of arms. “We’ll figure it out, no matter what,” he murmured in a more serious tone, kissing at Louis’ collarbone because it was right in front of him. “I know it’s somewhere in that labyrinth head of yours.”

“I know it is too, that’s what kills me! But I can’t make my mind show me things it wants to hide from me...Jesus, I sound like a loon,” he giggled, slapping his hands over his face and sighing in frustration.

“Babe, don’t worry yourself,” Harry urged, removing Louis’ hands and capturing his attention. “I feel like...I’m not sure. I feel like everything right now is happening for a reason. I’ve seen the work of fate, and what it has the power to do—” he said with a meaningful twinge in his tone and a squeeze to Louis’ hips to prove he was the recipient of that observance, “—and adding everything up, I think you and Alex just have this inherent knowledge of what you’re doing, and I’m going to put all of my faith in that. You’ll tell me when I need to know,” he theorized with a shrug, decently confident enough about his claim that it felt like the truth.

“I hope you’re right,” Louis said with a lopsided grin, reluctantly dismounting Harry’s hips to slide off the bed. “Now I know _you_ can see, but I haven't been able to this whole time. Where's the light?” he asked, flapping his left arm out because the lamp being in that general direction was the extent of his knowledge.

He heard Harry get off the bed and take a few steps past him, then the room was attacked with uncomfortable radiance. Louis quickly covered his eyes in shock, but Harry actually hissed.

“Did that hurt you?” Louis whined, forcing his eyes open and whirling around to find Harry’s defensive stance beside the lamp, his face in his hands while he dealt with the aftershocks.

“I'm okay,” he groaned, stumbling back over to the bed and sitting down with a bounce, gradually removing his hands to get used to the room. “Instinct reaction. Light just hurts sometimes.”

Louis nodded and scurried up to hug the sensitive vampire, hopefully making the adverse reaction just a little bit better. “We have to start thinking about leaving,” he said with a heavy voice, still vehemently opposed to the idea, but he knew it was a necessity. He didn't want to put Harlock and Jenner, not to mention all the defenseless humans here in danger either.

“Yeah,” Harry replied just as sadly, watching Louis parade around the room and dress himself in blue jeans and a red t-shirt, saving his shoes for last. He then collected his every belonging and threw it into his suitcase, putting all his dirty clothes in his backpack.

“Is everyone else up?” Louis asked, checking under the bed for anything he may have missed.

“Yeah, they're up. They're all talking about their sex last night,” he chuckled, joining Louis in the packing business.

“Doesn't it get annoying? Hearing everyone else when you're trying to have a private conversation?” Louis asked, not particularly looking forward to never successfully getting away from noise. You’d think after so much interaction with Alexander last night, he’d already know the answers to all of this, but Alex couldn’t be more absent from him than he was at this very moment. Louis didn’t even feel a _hint_ of his ancient aura anywhere inside his mind—apparently he’d overstayed his screen time projection.

“Oh, I can tune it out,” Harry quickly assured in reference to the noise question. “You do get used to it...although...takes a while. Before you learn how to control your senses, the world is a blinding, deafening, fragile yet overwhelming place,” he sighed, his memories of that transition period hard to think about because they all heavily involved Azazel.

“How _do_ you control it?” Louis wondered, pausing all his movement to regard Harry with fascination, happy to unlock codes that most humans don’t get to.

“It’s not really something I can put into words,” Harry said sympathetically, wishing his response didn’t have to be so true. “It’s not easy,” he said, snorting at the ludicrous understatement of that fact. “I won’t lie, for a long time, it seems downright impossible. Every single time you try to shut everything down, you fail. It starts to drive you insane,” he admitted with a sigh; apparently not even sugarcoating would fly. Louis deserved honestly, no matter how cruel. He was going to experience it someday, after all.

Louis sat down and stared pensively at the floor, imaging all the ways he would try to ignore the outside world, and obviously coming up blank. “Well I don’t want to go _crazy_ ,” he said, biting on his index nail until Harry took his hand and forced him to look over into his eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” he said to offer comfort—offer living (don't make him correct that) proof of the impossible. “I made it, didn’t I? And so can you. I had really...rude and grudging ‘help’ if I can even call it that, but you have me. I’ll take care of you. I understand what it's like, and I do kind of know what I’m talking about,” he said with a chuckle, his ancient age and sound mind independently proving that he was speaking the truth.

“Anything else fresh after turning I should be worried about?” Louis asked, realizing they were stalling, but how could be ignore a conversation such as this? It was highly important.

Harry’s face darkened like the flip of a coin, and he pointedly looked away, fists clenching as he fought the instantaneous war in his mind. Yes, there was a whole galaxy of shit Louis should be worried about, and he didn't want to talk about what that meant, _at all_ , but Louis had a right to know. He would someday deal with the same haunting and brutal torments. “Urge to kill,” he confessed, dreading every word in the follow-up conversation that Louis would unquestionably force.

“I'll wanna kill things?” Louis squeaked, thinking hard to what he knew about Harry and realizing that it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. He knew what Harry had done—who he'd been.

“You suddenly have all this power brimming inside you. I mean _real power_. You’re on top of the world, and everything else is so far below you, it should be a joke. It pools and it wells—builds up until you can’t take it anymore. Until you have to let it out. And when a human is just standing there...and you can feel everything in their fragile little bodies...and they’re so weakly drawn right to your fangs...” he trailed, almost shaking with the same power he was discussing.

Louis gulped, but he wasn’t afraid for himself. It was more the epiphany that came crashing down on his ignorant mind; the newfound but sure knowledge that Harry wasn’t entirely the pacifist he’d led himself on to be. “You like killing, don't you? You _want_ to,” he carefully accused, unable to stop himself from falling down this rabbit hole of things he probably didn’t want to know.

Harry’s bright green eyes turned on him in a flash, real and true anger swimming around in the usually gentle orbs. “I made a choice,” he snapped, pushing Louis back at least two feet from the force in his voice. “I made the old you a promise, and I stuck to it for a century. All the way up to meeting Martin. He broke my damn record, but I couldn’t leave him. He didn’t deserve to go out like that,” he said, vexedly carding his fingers through his hair. “He was the last human I ever killed. And you’ll be the next…” he threatened, almost leaving Louis hanging out of spite, but they both knew it'd be a front. “But I’ll bring you back.”

“I know you’ll bring me back, Harry,” Louis said softly, frustrated because Harry had missed his point entirely. “Harry, I’m not worried about me. I’m not _worried_ about anyone! As dangerous as you are, I know you’ve turned over a new leaf. Okay? I get it—”

“Louis—” Harry pleaded, his human sparing no attention on anything besides proving his point.

“—No, I don’t think you’re bad! I’m just saying, like...you still think about it all the time, don’t you? Is struggling with your urge to kill a constant effor—”

Harry cut him off with a menacing growl and lethal bearing of his fangs, trapping him between the springy mattress and the sharp teeth at his throat. “Will you shut up _now_?” he snapped, the uncommon loss of control in his demeanor setting off a barrage of alarms in Louis’ head, but he fired back anyway.

“Christ, I was just asking!” Louis bellowed, a responsive fury within him meeting Harry’s as its heavily regulated dam broke apart under the immense pressure, Louis struggling to contain the flash flood. “I’ll need to know, for fuck’s sake! _Clearly_ it’s a fucking issue if you’re over here getting all defensive like you’re fucking addicted to it—”

“ _What the fuck would you know about it_?” Harry snarled, a nonstop, cobra-like hiss now pushing through his every exhale as he rabidly salivated on Louis’ Adam’s apple, raising every hair on the human’s body in trepidation.

 _Shit. I went too far,_ Louis realized in dread, holding his palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry…” he rushed to say, the memory of his flooded anger melting away into a crushing feeling of regret. Harry had never been this mad at him before, and it was not a pleasant experience. _Toooo far._

“Don’t... _ever_...come at me with shit like that again,” Harry commanded, shoving away from Louis and glaring at him like he was the scum of the earth; like he was a stranger.

Louis watched with a hurting heart as Harry turned away without another word and swept out of the room, slamming the door after his abrupt departure and leaving Louis all alone to recount everything that had just happened. 

He began to drown in a pit of guilt and shame for causing Harry mental pain; that had never been in his intention, as he’d _tried_ to translate, but he just never should have brought up the killing thing in the first place. He could have just taken Harry’s information at face-value, remained mindful that it would happen as he internally grappled with the concept, then asked for help when he was a vampire experiencing the things he’d expected for himself. But no! He had to go and rub Harry’s kills in his face like they were nothing, and now look what he’d done. “Fuck,” he muttered, hot tears of frustration pooling at his tear ducts and making a run for it down his twitching cheeks.

He brought the heels of his palms up and pressed them to his eyelids, giving up the abstinence and quietly sobbing his pent-up feelings into them, falling over to his side and bringing his knees into his chest. He felt like a useless slug in this position, and how applicable a comparison it was. What an honestly cruel and heartless thing for Louis to do...he sucks.

A timid knock on his door jarred him out of his remorse, and he quickly wiped all the tears and snot from his face, sniffing to really get it back in and sitting up on the mattress, pulling a pillow into his lap for comfort. “Come in,” he said, preparing himself for whomever it would be.

“Hey,” Jenner said like he was talking to a man on the top ledge of a skyscraper, hellbent on ending his life.

“Hi,” Louis choked, his little wall breaking down before it had been finished because by the tone of voice, it was obvious that Jenner already knew. Before he could start up the waterworks, Jenner slipped inside and closed the door, jogging over to the bed and planting himself down beside Louis.

“Harry said you have some clothes for me?” Jenner asked, giving comforting rubs down Louis’ arm.

Louis’ eyebrows came together as he internalized Jenner’s words, finally looking over and giving him a look of puzzlement. “What?” he asked, momentarily distracted from his emotional meltdown.

Jenner’s eyes swept over the bed, and he spotted the backpack that Harry had furiously mentioned, grabbing the nearest strap and pulling it closer so Louis could see. “Are these them?” he guessed, Louis shifting his gaze to the thing in Jenner’s hand.

He understood the meaning all at once, and it almost made him cry harder—even though Harry was a walking steam engine of rage, he still took the time to tell someone about Louis’ laundry. “Oh,” he laughed, noticing how good it felt to smile in that particular moment. “Yeah, those need to be washed.”

“Alright, I’ll go throw them in. I’ll take you to a shower too, everything you could need is already in there. Even a change of clothes in your size. Consider them a gift,” he said with a smile, standing and holding a hand out for Louis to take.

Louis only stayed stuck in his pitiful position, half hiding behind a puffed-out pillow. “Harry’s mad at me,” he said in a tiny voice like a mouse, his head falling onto the pillow as he sighed dejectedly into its feathery fluff. “We had such a good night last night, and I just fucked it all up.”

“He’ll forgive you,” Jenner said passively, his tone suggesting that Louis was an idiot for think he’d ‘fucked it all up.’

“Yeah, but...no but he’s _really_ mad. I’ve never seen him like that before. I hurt him,” Louis whined. “I said something I really shouldn’t have...undermined the tough parts about being a new vampire,” he explained vaguely, too ashamed of himself to repeat the actual conversation.

“Well…” Jenner repeated, unsure of what he was trying to make light of due to his limited knowledge. “I don’t know the circumstance—Harlock does, but he wouldn’t tell me—” he mentioned, causing another cringe of shame to flex Louis’ muscles. “However!” he cried loud enough to snap Louis into the present. “Using my best guesses, I’d assume that if Harry is mad at you over things that happen to new vampires, that probably just means he doesn’t want to see you suffer them too,” he hypothesized, Louis laughing emotionlessly at the helpful yet inaccurate theory.

“It goes a bit deeper than that, but...thanks,” he amended; hurting Jenner’s feelings too would only make him feel worse.

“But I’m sure that’s part of it, right?” Jenner pushed, the strong hunch that he was right giving him an infestation of butterflies in his stomach. That’s how his instincts operated, and he was almost never wrong.

Louis thought it over and weighed the possibility of Harry only getting so upset because he was dreading watching Louis turn into the same monster he had within himself that he’d fought so hard to keep at bay...for his and Alexander’s own benefit, no less. He really wanted to believe it, but he couldn’t downplay his guilty part in this. He’d crossed a stark line, and got what was coming to him for doing so, and now he alone had to fix it. “Where’s the shower?” he asked Jenner with a forced smile, letting the warlock know that he was appreciative of the support but didn’t necessarily want to spend any more time talking about it.

Jenner smiled in return, giving Louis a friendly pat on the thigh and standing to commence the next step in his dramatic morning. “Follow me,” he said, leading Louis out through the door with his backpack of laundry over his shoulder.

Louis walked needlessly close behind him, afraid of encountering Harry so soon after his livid reaction. He caught Zayn’s unreadable gaze by the living room couches, and Niall’s expectedly concerned and sympathetic one, and both expressions were humiliating to be under. Did everyone in this fucking house know what he’d said? How rude he’d been? He gave the room one quick sweep with his eyes, but he saw no trace of Harry anywhere, so he trained his eyes to the floor and blocked everything else out, taking Harry’s lack of presence as a good _and_ bad sign. Good because he wouldn’t have to face him yet, but bad because then where the hell was he? The thought of his immortal off sulking somewhere was so much worse than enduring his paralyzing glare, and that’s saying something.  

Trapped in his all-consuming tornado of thoughts, Louis only vaguely knew he’d climbed at least one set of stairs, and then all at once he was walking into a bathroom, turning around to spot Jenner leaned against the door jamb.

“I’ll give you some privacy and you can take off your clothes, but then give them to me and I’ll go wash them,” Jenner said, backing up to push the door closed.

“Wait, I just put these on, that’s really not necessary,” he said, pinching his red t-shirt and shaking it as he spoke.

“Those clothes on the counter are for you, though. I told you that earlier. I’ll wash them anyway,” he pressed, clearly trying to make his way outside to end the debate.

“Alright,” Louis sighed, not enough heart in him to thank the warlock properly for all his help—hopefully he understood. The door clicked as Jenner closed it, and Louis speedily escaped the clutches of his clothes, standing a ways behind the door and reaching his arm through the crack he’d made while opening it, pushing the fistful of clothes to Jenner’s awaiting hand.

“Thanks,” Jenner quipped, skipping down the hallway and leaving Louis truly alone.

He sighed and shut the door once again, turning around and really letting himself take in the attributes of the bathroom. For one, it was arguably the largest and most spacious one he’d ever had the pleasure of utilizing. With its polished shine, separated shower that looked to have two opposing nozzles to hit you with jet streams from all angles, and cavernously deep hot-tub-resemblant bath, Louis felt it befit royalty. Between the abundant articles of metalwork hung upon the cream-coloured walls, decorating the room with butterflies, caterpillars, dragonflies, and ladybugs, and the blue sink bowl so large you could probably fare decently taking a bath in that instead, the only thing this room was missing was a golden toilet.

Alas, the toilet in question was the same blue as the sink, situated almost too high off the ground for Louis to be able to sit upon the seat _and_ touch the entire soles of his feet to the creamily hued, tiled floor, but still a nice one all things considered.

He stopped dawdling and picked the shower to revel in, fiddling around with the settings to make it work and sliding the other glass door open to do the same to the _other_ set of knobs. He giggled low in his throat in anticipation when instant steam rose from the double-trouble of the nozzles. Of course this mansion’s water supply would heat the moment it coursed through the pipes. Harry’s mansion could take notes. _Oh God. The mansion we can’t go back to...Harry...his face when I said that shit…_

“Nope,” he told his thoughts before he’d start crying again, leaping into the shower and sliding the glass doors shut on both sides, inviting the shocking shift in temperature to take his mind far away from his idiocy. He lathered himself in the softest soaps imaginable, scrubbing his skin with the loofah until it burned because he didn’t consider himself worthy of such soothing ministrations.

His time in the shower didn’t last very long on account of the clock on the wall ticking loud enough to be heard over the hissing of the shower, reminding him that time itself existed and was only getting away from him. He stalled for a few, savoured moments before turning the waterfalls off one by one, stepping out into the foggy bathroom and shivering as he grasped the towels that folded over too simplistic of towel racks for such an over-styled bathroom.

He dried himself in the same fashion as he’d washed himself; rough and unforgiving. By such brutal means, he was completely dried in a matter of seconds, his skin red and irritated, his hair sticking up like the leaves of a fern. He laughed at himself in the mirror and threw on the clothes that had been picked out for him, pulling on a pair of black undergarments, dark blue jeans, a long-sleeved, dark orange shirt with no designs to entertain it, and tube socks.

He slipped his shoes on last and tried his absolute hardest to do something with his hair, attacking it with both a hair-dryer and a brush, but he soon just had to give up and accept the fact that his hair would probably never look as good as it did in high school when he dedicated twenty minutes to it every day. He had the urge to clip his nails with the metal clippers that he knew were in one of these multiple drawers under the sink, but were manicured nails really that important? Not against evil immortals, they aren’t.

He sighed and gathered the courage to face his actions, flinging the door open and marching down the hall with his chin held high, only ever hesitating to make sure he was going the right away. He found the top of the staircase and walked down the steps like an anointed King, invincible from the judgment of his citizens. The first tops of heads he saw were that of Niall and Zayn, passionately making out on the couch with heavily wandering hands.

Further down, he also spotted Martin and Tanner mumbling to each other under the archway with blatant fond written all over their faces, unfairly teasing Louis with their happy-go-lucky dynamic, though he can admit that he’d gotten quite a lot of that over the past weeks, this fight being his and Harry’s first and all. Is this really a fight? What is even going on?

He swept into the room and headed straight for the coffee table, staring his best friend down until he shyly disconnected from his vampire’s lips and smiled coyly up at him. “Hi Louis,” he said, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

“Does anyone know where Harry is?” Louis asked, opening the floor for Martin and Tanner to reply if they had such knowledge.

Zayn infuriatingly refused to make eye contact with him, or offer any measure of helpful indication of Harry’s whereabouts, but Louis already understood why without needing to ask someone else: Zayn was Harry’s best friend. If Harry wasn’t talking to Louis, neither was Zayn. Damn vampires and their self-manufactured laws of respect and courtesy.

To really grind the silent treatment into his bones, Zayn leaned over and whispered the answer into Niall’s ear, the blonde’s eyes widening as he locked them onto Louis. “He's outside on a veranda...” Another pause to catch Zayn’s hushed instructions, “To the left,” he added, making a simplistic forward-to-left motion with his index finger.

Louis opted for nodding without a “thank you” at either of them, and turned on his heel to exit the mansion, his anxiety rapidly raising his heart rate, making him feel like a fluttering bunny rabbit. The bright beams of the starry sky’s half-moon were beating down on his eerily illuminated skin and inciting a sensation of being overly exposed, the windy chill in the air doubling the amount of trembling he’d already been doing on his own.

He pulled the sleeves of his shirt down over his hands as far as the cotton would allow, crossing his arms to fight the cold as he trained his eyes to the left, squinting to make out the distant outline of the veranda that had been mentioned to him. Once he got it in his sights, he couldn’t back down, all potential excuses he could make of “I couldn’t find it” blowing away with the next forceful gush of wind. Time to be a man.

He crossed the flat, stone slabbed grounding in vast and gaping steps, eliminating as much space between him and the raised porch as he could with each deliberate one. Then he finally saw him; standing at the railing that overlooked the gated road that led to their pristine location, elbows leaned against the ledge while he puffed on a cigarette, its orange cherry lightening to gold every time it was brought to his lips. He didn’t look over at the sound of Louis’ approach, but he did relax the hunch in his shoulders, and Louis took that as a positive sign.

He reached the steps that led to his brooding vampire and planted his foot down on each one with purpose, the grasping of his fingers on the handrail doing wonders for his balance. All too soon there were no more steps to climb, and he was instead shuffling toward Harry’s curved back, flanking his right and gazing out at the same scene that Harry intentionally found so much fasciation in.

The elongation of silence between them was nail-biting, but how the shit was Louis supposed to go first? What were the proper words to say here? What would ease the situation? What would make it _worse_? What if—

“It’s okay, you know,” Harry said in his usual deep and gentle tone, the comforting sound of it contrasting so incredibly nicely with the unconventional snap he’d barked in when this had all gone down.

“It what?” Louis asked, winning the courage to whip his neck to the left and beg for more information with imploring eyes. “It is?”

“Yeah,” Harry snorted, his final puff on his cigarette burning the paper all the way down to the filter line, the disappointed vampire stamping it out in an ashtray he’d procured for this specific simple pleasure. He then turned and brushed Louis’ still damp hair out of his face, his fingers lingering on his chin before falling away as he dropped his hand to his side. “You shouldn’t have said that...but I should have been calmer about it,” he confessed, his brow cinching as the courage to maintain eye contact ran away from him.

“You,” Louis stressed, guiding Harry’s chin back to him, “are not the one who should apologize or like...invalidate your—what _I_ think is a pretty understandable response—in any way. Not even if you’re not sorry at all and are just making amends because you think it makes sense to, okay? Not even then. I clearly wasn’t thinking at all, I mean...I can’t believe I _said_ that shit, I—”

“ _Easy_ , Louis,” Harry soothed like Louis was a jumpy and unsettled horse, enveloping him in his arms and breathing in the pleasing scent of freshly washed hair from a recent shower. “It’s done.”

“It’s not done!” Louis objected, struggling to be released from Harry’s grasp and failing miserably.

“It is,” Harry said sternly, finally letting Louis go free after planting a conclusive kiss to his head. “You said your bit, I dealt with my misplaced anger, and you wallowed in shame,” he listed flippantly, his choppy tone implying that he considered the problem to be remedied. “Besides,” he piped enthusiastically, his concealed undertone of stress easily reaching Louis’ specifically tailored ears. Harry would never fool him, and the vampire had to accept that. “Don’t you think it’s a bit ridiculous to be mad at you for something _I_ did?” he reasoned, reeling Louis into his side by the waist of his blue jeans.

Louis let himself be manhandled, but he wouldn’t concede the race to forgiveness yet; Harry needed to not only understand but acknowledge the fact that Louis held the majority of fault in this, not Harry himself. “But I brought it up for no reason, reminding you of something you already regret—”

“Louis,” Harry chuckled, looking down his nose at him with what reminded Louis of the devil in his eyes, making him feel as though he was getting doused in hellfire. “I don’t regret it,” he stated, Louis’ formerly racing pulse damn near stopping instead, as Harry calmly lit up his second or sixteenth cigarette, whichever it was...

“Oh,” Louis squeaked, forcibly nodding his head to go along with the sudden brutality of Harry’s emotionless confession.   

Harry let him simmer in his frets for a few consecutive seconds before getting any deeper, puffing away on the carcinogens while he let the awful truth of himself really sink into Louis’ consciousness, thereby giving him the chance to bolt if he wanted to. As it were, Louis dauntlessly stood his ground, and whether that was the smartest choice or not depended on who you asked. “I just know that I should,” he explained, referring of course to his apparent lack of regrets over slaughtering Louis’ kind.

“So then…” Louis hesitated, recklessly playing with both fire _and_ a loaded gun as he brought the topic back under the abrasive scrutinization that had initially earned him the savage slam of a door, “...why does it trouble you?” he pried, clenching his body in fear of the possible second round of fury.

Harry huffed in exasperation but he would not run from the truth like an ignominious coward twice in one night; his temper tantrum had run its wrathful course, now was the time for collected discussion. “Because it’s monstrous not to care about the shit I’ve done in my past. It’s disgraceful to feel nothing over the atrocities I’ve enacted on your species, and I wish I could, but I just can’t…”

Louis mulled it over and decided his verdict, throwing his arms around Harry’s torso and burying his face into his odorless armpit. “I get it,” he muffled in lieu of spouting baseless bullshit to the vampire about how it was all fine, seeking instead to show he was still good and wholesome in Louis’ eyes. Louis didn’t need to look to see the smile that forced itself onto Harry’s lips. He just knew.

“Come on,” Harry said, his rapidly smoked cigarette nearing its last legs anyway. He twisted the butt into the bottom of the ashtray until no lingering plumes of smoke could be detected rising from the crushed cherry, blowing any remnants of tobacco from his lungs and snaking an arm around the middle of Louis’ back. “You need to make a phone call,” he instructed, leading the emotionally drained human back down the steep steps and across the ongoing frontal face of Harlock’s abode.

Louis’ stomach re-tied itself into a bunch of knots because he knew that meant his Mother, but he refused to pay it any mind until he absolutely needed to. His arm found its way around Harry’s back in kind, working to match his widely-stepped pace to sustain the harmony of their strides. They entered the building as a single-minded unit, all nearby occupants (meaning Zayn, Niall, Harlock, Jenner, Martin, Tanner, Erakus, and oddly enough Missy) honest-to-god cheering for their mended conflict.

 _How embarrassing,_ Louis internally groaned, stepping out of Harry’s wing and taking a seat on the couch beside a mound of toasty folded clothes. It took just a moment for Louis to realize they were his, and he was shocked they were already out of the dryer. “I was not outside for this long,” he said to Jenner, who smiled and shrugged his consistently expressive shoulders.

“Maybe not, but you were most definitely in the shower for that long,” the warlock informed, Louis’ face going blank with understanding.

It was definitely possible that Louis had lost track of time and spent more under that delectable stream of water than he’d thought. Reasonable and expected, even. “Well in any case, thanks for folding them,” he said, transferring the clothes into his backpack that had been laid beside them.

“No problem, Lou,” Jenner said with a warm smile, clapping his hands together because he felt the time for departure staring them all in the face.

“Wait,” Harry interjected, sensing Jenner’s read on the situation and reacting with the reflexes of a leopard. “Some of us have phone calls to make,” he informed, looking to the dependable Harlock to make that happen for them.

“Follow me,” Harlock said, his footsteps echoing down the hall toward the kitchen.

The entire group, regardless that some definitely had no one to call, trudged on after the owner and billowed into the kitchen, the humans looking around like lost meerkats in a vast savanna.

“This way,” Harry spoke up, rounding to the left and strolling through the kitchen, making a hard right and taking them to another office type of room, boring and simplistic with a desk and filing cabinets that were probably empty.

A vampire appeared to already be on the phone that was plugged in here, and he looked up warily as their party swept into the room and crowded his space. Erakus walked up to plop his butt on the desk and plucked the phone from the vampire’s slackened grip, giving him a smug grin and resting the earpiece against the side of his face. “Hello?” he asked, the interrupted vampire dramatically sighing and shaking his head in vexation.

“Era, why do you do this to me?” the vampire groaned, revealing a deep Australian outback drawl. Harry’s group was put on hold as this unexpected circumstance unfurled.

“Marley, don’t be rude, I’m talking,” Erakus shushed, turning his attention back to the person or immortal on the other line. “What’s that?....Yeah, he’s doing great. Lookin’ great too, if I may be so bold,” he joked, dodging what would have been a well-earned slap that flew past his cheek. “Yeah, he’ll have to call you back, though. We need the line. Alright....Bye, Momma Marley,” he addressed, hanging up the phone and then handing the object over to the closest individual—which was Niall.

“You are such an ass,” Marley bit sourly, breaking out in a grin when Erakus wrestled him off the desk and all the way over onto the floor, both squabblers tuning everything out as they had their sexually-tense fun.

The blonde approached the phone somewhat nervously, not all that stoked over having to communicate to his parents that he’d be gone for “no reason.” He dialed their number and angled himself away from the onlookers, twirling the cord around on his index finger as it rang, trying to ignore the sound of fighting on the floor behind the desk.

Louis watched without a shred of respect for privacy, listening to the conversation with a heavy heart; none of them were supposed to be completely uprooted, but shit happens fast in the world of vampires, and one needs to be ready for anything. “Yeah, no, I’m fine,” he heard Niall say, leaning forward to catch more of it. “Please don’t cry, Mom....I’m just going away for a bit....I’m sorry, I can’t tell you…”

The sound of his whimpers ended Erakus and Marley’s entanglement in a flash, both cautious immortals peeking over the desk and slowly standing while they marinated in their shame. Clearly this wasn’t the time for joking around when serious things seemed to be afoot.

Louis directed his attention elsewhere as Niall furthered his plea for understanding, biting his nails in suspense because he was next, and what would he say to Stacey? Would she even be the one to answer? It was nighttime, he could easily get Troy’s gruff voice on the line instead…

Niall eventually hung up the phone and stood by the contraption as he wiped his face dry, all the tears that had escaped his eyes etching onto his sleeve and darkening the yellow cloth. Zayn was there instantly, giving him cheek kisses and arm rubs. The blonde then turned around a little too enthusiastically and thrust the phone at Louis, almost begging him to take it away from him.

Louis complied, and he stared at the teasing face of the telephone, getting it over with and dialing his home number, praying to the God he’d never before seen that Troy was passed out, wouldn’t wake up from the loud blaring of the ringing phone, and he’d get to hear his Mom’s sweet voice.

“Hello?” the obviously Stacey spoke after only a single ring, telling Louis that she’d been patiently waiting by the phone for an unknowable amount of time.

“Mom, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Louis sighed, the weight of a thousand suns finally lifting and letting him move freely for the first time in a while.

“Louis!” she whispered in glee. “Baby, where are you? The school called, you haven’t been in days?” she found the time to chastise, Louis almost amused to hear she was worried about little things like school.

“Yeah, something...something’s come up, and I can’t be in the area until it’s cleared up. I’m sorry, I know you wanted me to graduate, but I don’t know if it’s on the table for me anymore,” he said truthfully, hoping she wouldn’t question him much further, but she tends to take things at face value, so the odds were good.

“Are you in trouble? Running from the cops? Have you done something bad?” she asked to get the list out of the way.

“Yes, no, and not me exactly, I just got mixed up in something,” he answered, checking with Harry to make sure he wasn’t saying too much. He got an encouraging look, so he turned back away, soaking up the last moments he had with his Mom.

“When are you coming home?” she whined, Louis’ heart shattering at the desperation in her voice.

“Mom, I don’t think I’m ever coming home,” he admitted, hating to say it, but needing her to snap out of a fantasy that wouldn’t ever see the light of day. “But listen...I am going to free you from that place. I don’t care how. As soon as I’m safe again, I’m getting you out. Somewhere far away from Troy, okay? I promise,” he swore, listening closely to the sniffling on the other end so he wouldn’t miss a response.

“So you _are_ in danger?” Stacey confirmed, her motherly worry ringing louder than the rotary phone had.  

“Shit,” he cursed, forcing himself to backtrack, but they were losing precious time, and he needed to get on with it. “I’m gonna be fine, okay? Don’t uh...don’t worry. I’ll be back, and then you’ll be saved. Okay?” he asked frantically, knowing he’d be unable to rest unless he got comforting words from Stacey Tomlinson.

“Just be careful,” Stacey replied with no knowledge as to what she was talking about, proving once more that she was a Mother in her very soul. “Think about me last. Take care of yourself. I love you, my beautiful baby boy,” she said with a happiness that sounded forced, but Louis would take what he could get.

“Love you too, Mom. See you soon, yeah? Bye,” he said, discerning the timid “goodbye” in response and hanging up the call before he could stop himself, stepping away from the phone in its entirety and shamelessly wetting Harry’s black t-shirt with silent tears.

“You did good. We will save her, I promise,” he murmured as Zayn stomped up to the phone and speedily dialed a number nobody was aware of, facing his company without shame as he waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Greetings....Yeah,” the purposeful Pakistani quipped into the line, Louis and Niall exchanging confused looks. “I need you to look after my fish....I don’t know for how long....So just live at my house, then....Yes, I’m serious....But Thomas, if even one of my fishies die, I will rip you limb from limb, and then hack all the pieces in half....And if any of my shit goes missing on top of that, I will grill those pieces and feed you to wolves,” he threatened with an intensity he usually didn’t carry around, his polite smile returning after he’d gotten the groveling reply he’d been looking for. “Thanks, Thomas. You’re a real friend,” he said, delicately returning the phone to its base and straightening up.

“You’re a psycho about your fish,” Harry mentioned, Marley and Erakus chuckling off to the side.

“I love my fish,” Zayn defended, prepared to fight to the death over the honour of his little aquatic buddies.

“Can we go now?” Harry said with an eyeroll, steering Louis back out to the living room whether they would follow or not. Eventually they’d have to.

The whole group, including Marley and Erakus, pooled into the living room as the guests flocked to their respective bags, each throwing at least one sack over their shoulder.

“Looks like this is it,” Harlock said sadly, a large combination of vampires and humans alike appearing like a magic trick into the living room to voice their well wishes. Humans that had eaten dinner near Louis, Niall, and Tanner encircled them and gave informal hugs one at a time, fitting in small talk and meaningless blabber as they wrapped up their time together, but Louis’ eyes were more or less trained on Harry.

The vampires of Harlock’s went straight over to acknowledge his ancient lover first, bowing in gratitude for probably his mere presence, and then addressing Zayn and Martin in a far more friendly manner. Louis spent a fleeting moment of his time on directing sympathy toward Harry for constantly suffering the consequences of being an unapproachable Elder, but the condolence dissipated when he remembered that Harry really didn’t give a shit about socializing. And why should he? He’s your dealer’s _dealer’s_ dealer. So high up the food chain, the only thing higher in the whole world was...shit...Azazel.

Yeah, time to go.

Louis hurried the goodbye’s up and inched his way through the small crowd to retrieve his suitcase, his stuffed backpack already chilling out on his shoulders. He caught sight of Erakus beside Harlock and strode up to him, holding out a hand in his typically human way. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, the vampire staring down in exasperation at his hopeful hand; deadpanning like Louis should have had the sense not to do this.

Regardless of his personal opinions surrounding the social norm, he accepted the gesture, shaking their joined hands once before promptly ripping his own from Louis’ overly familiar grasp and shoving it in his coat pocket. “Likewise,” he gruffed, his attitude widely broadcasting the notion that they should all get a move on already.

His prayers were answered when Harry’s group collectively moved to the front doors like they shared a hive mind, each visitor that had come to see them off dispersing one by one, retreating back into the boundless interior of the mansion.  Erakus stayed with their group and helped walk them out through the heavy doors, Louis taken over by crushing sadness once he had crossed the threshold. For really wanting to leave, he _really_ didn’t want to leave.

The air in the new world of uncertainty and terrible odds had a more choking effect than it probably intended, and it wasn’t the air’s fault; this was Louis’ fear working against him as hard as it could, seeking only to discourage him from taking the steps that most needed taking.

“Alright, Era, if you would go bring the car around,” Harlock requested, the inflection of his words painfully monotone as Erakus heeded the order without delay, jogging off around the right bend of of the mansion’s outer walls to some unseen place where cars were stored.

“Just give him a moment. The car in question is parked on the lowermost floor of the garage,” Harlock informed like his explanation didn’t incite its own brand of confusion.

“The garage?” Louis repeated in puzzlement, Tanner scooting subtly closer into Louis’ side.

“There’s an underground garage,” he whispered, Louis’ incredulity reaching new heights.

“You have an _underground garage_?” Louis cried in awe, the eyepatched immortal slowly nodding his head.

“How else would we store every resident’s vehicle?” Harlock reasoned, Jenner still snickering at Louis’ face. “It’s how you can rest assured that no harm, by weathering or other external means, will come to your Camaro SS,” he said to Zayn’s troubled form, hoping to comfort at least one of his palpable worries.  

“Harry,” Martin suddenly announced with a stern and commanding tone, turning every head to him and the timid Tanner halfway behind him.

Harry already knew what this was about, but he wanted to hear his butler’s case, so he played the fool to be entertained. “Yes?”

“Can Tanner come with us?” he asked, taking it easy for the initial plea; he’d get adamant if he was refused.

“Martin, no, he can’t. We’re diving head-fucking-first into what will probably turn into a war, with no confidence any of us will make it out alive, so to speak. It’s terrible enough that we’ve already involved two innocent humans in _my problems_ , forcing them to drop everything and worry their parents, leaving every trace of the life they knew behind, why the _fuck_ would I add another fragile creature into the mix?” he berated, so far doing a damn good job at playing the role of the patronizing parent.

Tanner’s head bowed like he’d been expecting that very answer, and Louis and Niall were on the teetering verge of protesting Harry’s decision to vouch for Tanner’s stay, but Martin took matters into his own hands, striding right up to Harry and getting in his face. “Maker?” he addressed icily, his creator peering down at him and encouraging the challenge by saying nothing. “I’m not leaving here without him.”

Niall and Louis squealed in glee over the beginning stages of true love happening right before their eyes, and they skewered the unassailable Harry with hopeful looks, unfortunately landing on blind eyes because Harry’s gaze was glued to his butler.

Everyone waited in weighted silence, and the sound of an approaching car sounded into the stalemate, but nobody looked away from the moment in history they were currently witnessing.

“I just wanted to know how serious you were,” Harry said with a smirk, nobody making a sound until they knew for sure. “Bring him.”

The humans cheered and attacked Tanner with squeezing embraces, all three of them jumping for joy at the acceptance. Harry pat the speechless and still in shock Martin on the head, Zayn taking over for him and crushing the freckled butler in a hug of vampiric strength, breaking him out of his stupor as he responded in kind.

All the celebration halted as the headlights of the vehicle came into view, the vampires specifically guarding their eyes against the harsh glare until Erakus pulled it forward enough so the headlights were past everyone’s view, putting it into park and killing the engine with a hissing noise, revealing the sides of what nobody could believe they were looking at.

A 60’s hippie van.

Once the headlights had turned off, the features of the van had become visible, its dual colouring of paprika and cream cohabitating deliciously, the cream dripping down in the front to create a curved ‘V’ shape that touched the bumper, centered between two perfectly round headlights that gave the impression of googly eyes.

It had two front windows, and five side windows (ten, if you counted the other side), plus one more in the back. From what he could see, apart from the driver and passenger seats, two more rows of bus-type benches swept down the interior, and there was a space in the back for storage. It was bloody perfect.

“Holy shit _yes_!” Niall cried, running in a circle around the bus and inspecting its every nook and cranny. “Louis, it’s a...it’s a—”

“A 1960 Type-2 Volkswagen Kombi Samba Bus?” Marley’s distinguishable Australian inflection answered, leaning against a pillar by the front doors and nearly glowering at the vehicle.

“Is this your van?” the astute Harry questioned, the humans’ mouths dropping open in shock.

“Didn’t make that many,” Marley continued, slowly walking down the path and stopping just before the van, reaching out and sliding his fingers across the polished metal, not a chance of dirtying his fingertips in doing so. “Snagged it in Melbourne when it first hit the market. Had it transported here on a ship when I first moved thirteen or twelve years ago, and been with her ever since, but...you guys need her more than I do, and I’m glad she can serve a bigger and more heroic purpose,” he lamented, his tone bleeding with the notion that he really was giving his daughter away to her husband on their wedding day.

“We’ll take care of it,” Niall said passionately, his love and respect for this Australian vampire soaring above the clouds. Volkswagen vans were his favourite of all time, his appreciation having blossomed during childhood to pre-teen years, when the freedom fighters and flower children of the 1960’s basically claimed the buses for their own movement, painting them top to bottom in breathtakingly rainbow colour schemes that matched their tie-dye clothing, adding on spray painted peace signs, hearts, and daisies to decorate the final product.

He remembers seeing long, flowing hair on both guys and girls, the girls twirling in circles while their colourful skirts fanned out around their knees, the guys stomping their feet and playing a variety of acoustic guitars, banjos, and pan flutes, smiles on every single face in the group. He never understood why such happy people were looked so far down on by everyone else, but when he’d asked his Father about them, Bobby had snarled on and on about how they were “no-good, brain-scrambled, drug-addicted, economy-leeching, bad-smelling, untalented, unwanted, undesirable fools who had absolutely no right to talk about Vietnam if they’d never seen it up close.”

He couldn’t forget those hippie rants if he tried.

In Niall’s opinion, his Father had taken his hatred for their peaceful ways kind of far, but maybe America just wasn’t ready for that kind of love yet. Maybe a new millennia would be the key…

Louis giggled at Niall’s enthusiasm; sometimes he would swoon and moan over a hidden detail he’d discovered, other times get sidetracked and stare into space, locked in some train of thought that nobody could possibly be privy to. Before he’d noticed any sort of plan being undertaken, the vampires had hopped into the van and opened the back hatch to make room, two more unnamed vampires jogging down the pathway with black curtains, duct tape, and a hammer with a box of nails, throwing it all into the opened back hatch, and pushing it closed after the distribution.

The helpful vampires climbed in through the side and gave assistance where it was needed, all immortals around laughing casually like Louis’ group _wasn’t_ about to embark on an adventure of many possible but all ominous finales. They merely continued on working, taping (and sometimes nailing) the curtains over the back window, the furthest back side windows, and adding a wide strip between the last row of seats and storage area altogether, using the duct tape to block out every crevice that light could shine through.

Louis, Niall, and Tanner stood huddled together to fight the cold, and because vampires moved so damn fast, they were all done by the time the shivers really took over their bodies. The two helping hands, Louis had heard to be called “Jet” and “The General,” retreated to the mansion, each with a wink, leaving Harlock, Jenner, Erakus, and Marley to say the closing statements.

“You will take it easy, won’t you?” Harlock asked Harry, stepping over a bag and taking his Elder friend in his arms.

“Of course I will,” Harry affirmed genially, his hands sliding up and down Harlock’s overcoated back to comfort him.

Martin snorted as he transferred everyone’s luggage to the back storage compartment, a place he might have to sleep in a few hours or so if they didn’t get a move on quickly.

“Louis, Niall,” Jenner sighed wistfully, his arms closing around both boys as they snuggled into him in response. “I’m sad to see you two go. There was so much I wanted to explain about my kind,” he grumbled, releasing the pair and letting them have their turn to speak.

“Just for you, I’ll do all the research I can. Let you know what ridiculous and completely inaccurate things I find,” Louis laughed, handing his backpack over to Martin when the butler appeared to take it.

“That’s basically everything,” Jenner warned, ruffling Niall’s hair before stopping at Tanner. “You got your golden ticket, are you happy?” he said lightheartedly, the words having the power to sound spiteful, but not how he said them.

“Jenner, you know I’ll miss you guys!” he stressed, his cheeks reddening as Martin came back to get Niall’s bag. “But I fell in love…”

Martin dropped Niall’s bag without hesitation, Louis cackling at the circumstance, and marched right over to Tanner, gripping him in a strong hold and bending him backward, their lips smashing together as they lost themselves entirely in the moment.

“Oh Christ,” Zayn muttered in annoyance, dramatically stepping around the pair and approaching his wonderful Niall. “Are we ready?” he asked the group of humans as he lifted Niall’s forgotten bag, the rest of the immortals leaned against the van as the time got closer and closer.

Louis nodded and skipped to Harry, still unconvinced that everything was fine after such a quarrel, but they’d have all the time in the world to repair the damages it may have caused. Hopefully…

“I’ll see you guys in Cali,” Erakus said cheerfully, having shaped up his attitude ever since he’d learned that Harry’s group were facing such real and severe danger. He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but they really didn't deserve his notorious lathering of cynicism on top of their troubles.

“See ya there!” Louis responded, a bubbly feeling of excitement spreading across his skeleton. An adventure. A road trip.  _California_. Yeah, maybe Auron and Azazel would be hot on their tails, but at least some parts of this cluster-fuck would be fun, right? With that in mind, he hopped on the bus.

The seats had been covered in purple tie-dye tapestries with little black Dead bears sprinkled all over them, which was a plus, and the shaggy carpet that littered the 70’s coated the floor, mixing the cultures perfectly and making Louis feel right at home. Harry, Martin, and Tanner stepped up and pushed inside next, the butler couple passing them via the small walkway that separated the first row of seats from the van’s frame. Zayn decided to take the roll of the driver, which meant that Niall popped in the passenger seat beside him, and Louis just knew they’d be in for a rough journey of the blonde’s abhorrent backseat driving, only in this case, right up front.

Harry pulled the collection of maps out of his inner pocket, tossing them carelessly to the front to be caught blindly Zayn like they’d planned it down to the last detail. _Vampire reflexes,_ Louis sneered in his head, secretly overflowing with jealousy over their foolproof perfection.

Jenner and Harlock flanked the sides of the van outside Harry and Louis, knocking on the glass until they both undid the latches and pushed the windows out half a foot until they wouldn’t go any further.

“I wish you the very best of luck,” the eyepatch wearing, fancy dressing, eloquently spoken immortal bittersweetly bid the guests, dipping his head every which way to try and catch each individual’s eyes.

“Call us along the way, and then when you get to Tahoe so we can alert William you’re close,” Jenner added, Erakus brooding and huffing a ways behind him. Erakus didn’t particularly like the fact that his coddling family had been brought into this, and that was written all over his face and body language—he was probably panicking over having to meet them there as well, exposing him to his parents and grandparents’ overwhelming affection in the presence of an Elder.  

“We will,” Harry said, reaching his hand through the gap in the window and grasping Harlock’s.

Louis did the same and the freckled, fiery Jenner brought his hand to his lips, kissing the skin and then squeezing tightly. “Bye, Lou,” he said as Zayn turned the key and the whole van shook awake, putting and chattering, completely drowning out the sounds of the outside world.

Louis waved his response and bit back a wave of tears, scooting closer to Harry for moral support. Zayn turned the almost flat steering wheel, his arm making wide circular motions like he was stirring a large pot of stew as he pulled out onto the driveway, waving out the window at the group that was steadily getting smaller as they rumbled down the gravel path.

Louis, Niall, and their new friend Tanner finally turned away from the mansion when the horizon ate it up, facing the decline of land that would precipitate the gate to the unknown. No one said a word as they neared the golden gate, swung open previously to allow their leave, and Zayn broke the silence as he rolled the bus wheels to a stop, looking both ways and twisting around to ask the other occupants the thing he apparently didn’t know, “Which way is California?”

Harry scoffed until he realized he didn’t know either, snatching the ignored map out of Niall’s hands, flipping it right side up, and burying his nose in the lines and landmarks displayed on the exceedingly folded pages.

Louis glanced back at Martin to gauge his reaction, hoping he wasn’t alone in finding this completely ridiculous. The butler met his eyes, slightly shrugging his shoulders in tandem with Tanner’s, both creatures impressively holding back the laughter that Louis so very much wanted to unleash.

“That way,” Harry suddenly grumbled, his arm stretched out to the left as his eyes stayed on the pages, studying them a bit before returning the map to Niall’s hands that hadn’t yet moved from their frozen spot.

Zayn cleared his throat and played his fumble off with as much poise as he could muster, “a-hah”ing as he cut the wheel, the riders hanging on to their nearest hand grip as their butts slid across the tapestries—for Louis, his handhold was Harry.

Harry kissed his hair and windmilled an arm up and around his shoulders, inviting him to cuddle into his side, the remnants of their fight nearly all the way behind them. Maybe the fallout would have more repercussions than he had the foresight to see at present, but he’d deal with them when they came. He’d deal with _everything_ as it came.

For now though, the only things that mattered in the entire fucking world were these Grateful Dead bear bus benches, Niall’s obliterated virginity, Martin’s taken chance at love, Harry’s comforting arm around him, and the road ahead of them.

California had better be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROOOOAAADD TRIPPPPPP !!!!!!


	10. Miranda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins.

“ _Bus stop, wet day, she’s there I say, ‘Please share my umbrellaaa’_ ,” Niall sung obnoxiously into the confines of the rolling bus, each insanely irritated passenger groaning low in their throats because they’d dealt with this for two straight hours. The sudden pouring rain they’d been struck with a ways into the drive had served as the unfortunate starting point for the overload of songs which shared references to rain and/or buses that Niall felt the need to screech out of his musically flapping mouth.  

“Please stop,” Louis groaned, expectedly unheard by the Niall who was nowhere near done yet.

“ _Bus stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows. Under my umbrellaaa_ …”

Harry was done. “Niall, I like The Hollies too, but could you maybe—”

“ _All that summer we enjoyed it. Wind and rain and shiiine. That umbrella, we employed it. By August, she was mine_!”

“NIALL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” Louis roared, getting a thankful pat on the back by the headache-riddled Tanner.

“Sorry,” the blonde giggled, ignorantly oblivious of the sour mood he was stirring up with his horrendous singing. “I can sing something else if you’d like—”

“NO!” the entire van protested, Niall’s face falling in a way that reminded Louis of children when they finally grasped the concept that Santa Claus was fictional.

“Well fine,” he huffed, crossing his arms and pouting like that same brokenhearted child would.

“I know this van doesn’t have a radio, but that doesn’t mean anyone needs to fill that musical emptiness,” Martin reasoned, his eyes beginning to droop, which wasn’t a good sign at all. It meant the sun was going to start creeping up and lighting the sky soon, and all three vampires would have to smush themselves into the back of the van, cozying up to each other far more than any of them ever wanted to.

“What time is it?” Tanner asked, picking up on the drowsy behavior of his new heart and soul.

Louis checked his watch and shrugged, handing his wrist off to Harry to take a look at.

“It’s almost five,” Harry informed, Zayn humming in the front and tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel as he thought.

“You guys want to find a motel to stay in?” he asked, peering over his shoulder to see what the consensus was.

Truth be told, none of the vampires wanted to be stuck in the back for an entire day, and the beds of a motel sounded insurmountably better to their ears. Leave it to Harry to be the voice of reason.

“No, we should switch off and have the humans drive the day,” he said, pointing briefly to Niall as he said it. “Seems like he has the energy to drive for weeks.”

“I’m actually tired,” Niall negated, shrugging when he got incredulous looks all around, even from Zayn. “What? I use singing to keep me goin’,” he explained, extending his arms with a challenging force when nobody replied yet again.

“Harry?” Zayn asked, any conceptual decision needing to ultimately go through the Elder’s ruling before it would become law.

Harry was still in thought, debating the pros and cons of taking a full day off from their trip just for comfort purposes. Though he could admit, this did go a _bit_ deeper than just comfort. The humans tiring would slow their progress; if all of them were on the verge of passing out, they would indeed be forced to stop entirely, and best to do that in a safe-ish place (at least not on the side of a road). It was annoying to stop so soon because they were still in southern Idaho, but maybe a replenish of their strength would prove to hasten the last leg tomorrow.

“We’re also kinda hungry,” Louis mentioned, the vampires gasping at their mistreatment toward the humans’ needs.

“How did we forget to pack food for them?” Zayn asked, appalled with himself for bypassing such a crucial detail to consider.

 _Okay, food too_ , Harry added to his list. It was basically decided at that point; to ask the humans to keep driving through their exhaustion while the vampires—albeit uncomfortably—slept through their struggle, _and_ ask them to do it without food the entire time, was rather cruel and unnecessary. Also, to forget that humans had remarkably lower levels of stamina and endurance when put in harsh conditions than vampires—who needed nothing to survive—was just plain stupidity on the immortals’ part.

“We’ll stop at the next place we come to,” Harry announced, the humans collectively sighing in relief to hear they’d all lie on beds tonight/day, not to mention get sleep at all.

“Thank you,” Louis breathed, snuggling into Harry’s side, his chilled trembles from Harry’s lifeless skin practically going unnoticed when put up beside his happiness.

“I’m sorry. I expected far too much of you,” the Roman lamented, lifting Louis’ chin so he could kiss those sweet lips in apology.

“How far until the next hotel?” Martin piped, his position with Tanner looking to be quite the comfy one to Louis, who had shifted his eyes to him after his kiss broke. The butler was leaned back against a window of the van, sitting sideways on the bench with Tanner down between his legs using him as a pillow, resting his frizzy-haired head and dainty hands in the center of Martin’s chest.

Niall took over the map duty, picking up the pleasures and sightseeing one for the state of Idaho, flipping through in search of the pages for the southern region they were in, and clicking his fingers for a flashlight when it became too difficult to see the fine print in the dark.

Zayn reached his hand down into the little side compartment that they’d stashed the blonde’s personal flashlight in; the very same flashlight that Louis had taken out of Niall’s glove box to shortly afterward shine it onto the sleeping form of Zayn, giving his best friend the very first glimpse of who would soon grow to be his immortal lover. Such a short time ago that instance had transpired, but _boy_ did it feel like a distant dream now.  

Niall grasped the heavy metal object and carefully flicked it on with the beam downcast, a great deal more mindful of vampire’s aversion to light than Louis might have expected. He covered as much of it as he could with a cupped hand, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he read quickly. “Where exactly are we?” he asked, looking through his front window to catch any passing signs.

“We passed the city line for Murphy not too long ago,” Zayn replied, all the responsibility of keeping tabs on their location having fallen on him, being the driver and whatnot.

“We are _so_ close to Oregon,” Harry groaned, regretting his fight with Louis even more than he already did because if they hadn’t spent so much time making up after the cooldown, they all could have left at least a half hour earlier, meaning the sun would still be that much more behind the upcoming horizon.  

“Why go through Oregon at all? Why not take the deserts of Nevada? That state’s pretty barren, and it’s a sunny place in general. Auron’s group wouldn’t be caught dust there,” Zayn pointed out, their current plan having bugged him since it had cemented itself onto their future.

“Zayn, it’s _because_ Nevada is a sunny desert that we shouldn’t go there,” Harry said intelligently, his eyebrows raising because he didn’t see why Zayn would overlook the fact that his points ‘for’ were also the points ‘against.’ “Auron wouldn’t be there, you’re right. But so much sun beating down through this roof could actually give us all sun sickness, whether we’re covered by curtains or not. We’d need to be _far_ underground to escape the rays of a desert.”

“Jeez, I’m losin’ it,” Zayn laughed, chalking his slower-than-usual brain and thought processes up to their recent haul of disconcerting circumstances. “Yeah, Oregon it is,” he accepted wholeheartedly, Niall finding the perfect location at that moment.

“I got it,” the blonde announced excitedly, checking a third time between the map beside the motel advertisement, and the bigger map draped over his thighs.

“Shoot,” Louis said.

“It's literally just called Murphy Motel,” he chuckled, disapproving over the lack of creativity that went into naming that establishment. Though, the alliteration was admittedly catchy.

“Address?” Zayn asked, glancing over at the map to see for himself but recoiling from the unsavory light that stormed his pupils.

“1728 Jordan St.,” Niall recited, jumping into detailed directions on where to get off the highway, which and what kind of turns to make on the way, and where Jordan street would come up on the route.

“How long do you think that will take?” Louis wondered, his insistence stemming from the teasing threat of the sunrise.

“We’ll make it,” Harry assured, peeking over Niall’s seat and ignoring the brightness to scope both maps and judge the distance. “It’s cutting it close, but it should be fine. There’s no traffic out here.”

Zayn stepped a fraction harder on the gas pedal just in case, the increased speed hopefully having a say in how close that cut would turn out to be.

Harry relaxed and closed his eyes to give them a greatly desired break, and Niall switched the flashlight off, keeping it between his legs in case they needed it again. Louis was pleased they were making the stop, all sorts of thoughts pouring into the sexual maniac side of his brain; Harry would probably fall to heavy sleep right when they arrived, and Louis could see himself following that lead, but surely they’d have time when they awoke to _really_ make up from their fight? Slap a stamp on the whole argument and send it off in the mailbox of done deals? He could hope.

The drive was quiet until they were able to merge off the highway, then the only sounds were the occasional instructions spoken by Niall to the clueless Zayn. They turned and curved through a wasteland of pine trees as the sky gradually became to take on a dark blue colour palette until they came to the intersection of Jordan street, Zayn making a sharp right and flying down the street as fast as the old wagon would permit, his anxiety growing larger every passing second he wasn’t in total darkness.

“We’re gonna make it, Zayn,” Harry soothed as he stifled a yawn, grabbing Zayn’s shoulder for support and stroking his thumb back and forth across the most prominent and jutting bone.

Louis looked behind him and saw Martin and Tanner already snoozing together, wrapped up in each other’s embraces and painting the textbook and clinical picture of serenity. He smiled at the sight and let them have their privacy, urging Harry to sit all the way down so he could get that same closeness that Tanner was currently gifted with.

Harry had no opposition to being pulled into Louis’ side, pecking his temple and cheek with a copious amount of kisses, glad he’d made the decision to stop for this very theme of reason. Sleeping with Louis bundled in his arms eclipsed any conceivable alternative.

The shabby motel was in view at last, and Zayn mentioned it the moment he caught it, the volume of the report waking Martin and Tanner from their quick nap.

“Are we there yet?” Martin grumbled, trying to recall what had woken him up, but coming up short. He only knew it had been Zayn’s bumptious voice to do it.

“Yeah, Mar, we’re here,” Harry confirmed, glancing at his weary butler and reaching back to pat a section of his chest that wasn’t blocked by his human’s bristly hair.  

“Good, I need another night of cuddles with this one,” he cooed, nosing at Tanner’s neck and tightening his arms around the brown-eyed beauty at his disposal.

Tanner giggled shyly and batted at Martin’s thighs, twisting around to steal a kiss.

Harry turned around at that point so as not to encroach on their uncharted and sensational lovey dovey quirks.

Zayn pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, wasting no time in tumbling out and opening the side door for the others to get out. Niall hopped out of his side and stretched on his tiptoes, his teeth chattering because he’d stepped right into an air that was five times colder than the inside of the van. He ran around and knocked into Zayn’s chest, them two, Harry, and Louis waiting for Martin to get their essential bags and drop them on the pavement.

Tanner handed off each bag that Martin fetched from the back storage, everyone eager and impatient to enter the building and get separate rooms for the long day of slumber ahead of them. Once all the belongings had been returned to their owner, Martin and Tanner leapt from the van, and Harry closed the door for them, the group power-walking to the front doors as the vampires scanned the area for any potential threats.

They seemed content with the lack of anything they’d discerned, and Zayn opened the right side door of the motel, ushering everyone else in first like a true gentleman.

The man at the desk looked as unhappy to be there as a DMV employee, the dark bags under his eyes and overstock of empty coffee cups independently speaking for him. “Hello,” he slurred with a negative amount of energy in his groggy voice, the pimpled man either two seconds from sleep or a medical coma.

“Three rooms, please,” Harry politely ordered, his arm around Louis’ lower back etching a scowl on the worker’s face.

“Three rooms for six boys? Two of you a room?” the man heckled, blatantly disgusted over his assumptions of their homosexuality.

“Neat, I passed first grade math too,” Louis sassed, a subtle but intentional pinch on his hip from Harry. He understood the stern warning; they couldn't afford to be denied service from a homophobe.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't come to wild conclusions. We are all members of the same Christian church. We're on a mission to spread the word of God to the sinners and the misguided,” Harry flawlessly recovered, everyone instantly going along with the narrative, putting on their best act of being offended by the insinuation.

The man choked and straightened his slouched spine, holding a hand over his mouth in shame of being so disrespectful to fellow servants of the Lord. “I’m so sorry, I just—I shouldn’t have misjudged you. I feel terrible, please stay here for free. Disciples of Jesus should not have to pay for their good-hearted mission, especially after being experiencing rude behavior. Breakfast is served at eight, lunch at noon, and dinner is at seven,” he informed, the customers changing their melody and forgiving him with smiles.

“We humbly thank you for your consideration,” Harry said, using a sliver of his lure to really drive their claimed dynamic into the man’s head.

“Again, I’m sorry,” the man repeated, pushing his roller chair away from the desk and tapping his feet to spin around, reaching for three room keys in a consecutive row that only skipped one to keep the religious warriors close together. “Here we are,” he said, dumping the handful of keys on their rings—accompanied by the bendy rubber ‘MM’ motel logo with the room numbers on the back—onto the raised ledge surface of the desk. “Rooms twenty-two, twenty-four, and twenty-six. Go down the hall to my left, and up the stairs, and they’ll be further down that hallway.”

“We appreciate this, thanks,” Harry said conclusively, swiping the set of keys from the desk and heading off in the direction the impressionable asshole had described.

Louis waved at the man and scuttled behind Harry’s heels, all of their group waving politely until they passed the front desk and put it behind them, staying silent until they’d climbed the stairs and leveled out onto the second floor.

“Fuck, that was quick thinking on your part, Harry,” Zayn praised as he caught the keys that Harry blindly tossed, handing the last one to Martin.

Everyone sporadically voiced their concurrence to Zayn’s remark, but Harry wouldn't have it. “It’s just about deductive reasoning. He was wearing a cross around his neck,” he evaded, his postponed fatigue drastically catching up to him as his steps grew more laborious and weighted by the second.  

Luckily they came upon their designated doors at that moment, the three even-numbered rooms making one straight line because the odd numbers were behind them on the other side of the hall.

“Goodnight,” Harry called briskly, wrangling the key into the knob and falling into the dark room as Louis followed, the two remaining couples creating an apt repeat of the action and disappearing into their private seclusions.

“Do you think we’ll be awake at seven for dinner?” Louis asked, flicking a small lamp on as he dropped his bags and shrugged out of the coat he’d asked Tanner to retrieve from his suitcase when the temperature had started to plummet during the drive.

The jarring sound of _nothing_ emanated from the bed, and Louis bit his lips as he turned to stare the culprit down, his vampire having barely rid himself of his bags before falling face-down on the mattress and losing his grip on consciousness. “You are adorable,” he murmured to the now unreachable Harry.

He studied the heavily curtained window and wondered whether or not its beige colouring would be enough to ward off the sunlight the room would soon be bathed in. He decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and grabbed a thick, black blanket from one of the three identical leather duffle bags Jenner had given them, that each couple had brought into the motel for this exact unspoken reason.

As he was folding it over the curtain rack, he chuckled to himself in amusement over the idea that Niall and Tanner had likely also been bestowed this task to complete themselves, given that their vampires had probably zonked out as instantly as Harry had. Once it had been administered to the window, Louis backed up and assessed the practicality of the blockage.

The extra measures seemed fine because the curtains stretched beyond the frame of the window, and the added blanket increasingly weighed the curtain down against the wall, but some sunlight might still be able to leak through the sides, so he picked up the little box of thumbtacks that came with the bag, and got to work on really covering all the bases.     

Finally, he was allowed to step back and nod his head with confidence that Harry would be safe against the day. He scratched all around his scalp and sighed lowly over the simple pleasure, scoping the room out of curiosity and trekking to the bathroom to explore the full environment. The shower was infested with mildew, and the sink had a permanent drip that bounced off the drain with an audible _bloop_.

He scoffed in distaste and quickly closed the door of the unsatisfactory bathroom, his legs only growing steadily more uncomfortable in their denim confinement as he paced around the room. He pursed his lips in sympathy that Harry hadn’t made it out of his street clothes, but as with every other time this happened, that sympathy blew away when he remembered Harry wouldn’t blink an eye at the fact. Louis however, decided he would change into his pyjamas because he loves and appreciates himself.

He giddily searched through his backpack and plucked out what looked best, slipping a pair of plaid cotton trousers onto his goosebump-covered legs and adding a crisp pair of socks to his aching feet, only changing his top to another similar long-sleeve shirt because they counted for pyjamas on their own.

He then put all his residual strength into rearranging Harry’s sprawl to pass for one that lined up with the length of the bed, grunting as he manhandled Harry’s deadweight limbs into submission. He succeeded with beads of sweat having formed on his forehead, wiping them away with the tip of his sleeve, and walking with freshly socked feet back to the lamp so he could turn it off.

Once accomplished, he trudged back to the bed and dramatically flopped onto the typically rebounding toughness of the motel mattress, wrestling with the comforter underneath him to slip below the sheets. Harry would unfortunately not be able to receive this last step, but Louis was far too depleted to yank the bedding out from under him, just to give him unneeded warmth that wouldn't do jack shit for his dead body. Literally.

He sent a hushed “goodnight” to the heap of his vampire boyfriend, and closed his eyes for good until they naturally opened again after a period of satisfying sleep. It took almost no time at all for Louis’ to start descending into said period, and if Louis dreamed that night, he'd never remember.

 

\---

 

Louis came to as the repetitive feeling of a hand softly brushed from his forehead to his hair, the affectionate gesture putting him in the best mood off the get-go. He opened his cranky eyelids and fawned over the first sight of consciousness: Harry propped up on an elbow while he beamed down at Louis with unmistakable love in his brightly pigmented green eyes.

“How long have you been watching me sleep?” Louis croaked, pushing himself up the mattress until he was sat upright against the headboard. He yawned and cracked his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and fixing his wild hair.

“A while,” Harry replied, his lounged position remaining stationary, save for the tilt of his head to now look up at Louis as opposed to down.

“Kinda creepy,” Louis teased, his eyes locking onto the clock upon the side table over Harry’s head, documenting the time as 6:49 p.m., just eleven minutes before dinner time, courtesy of the intolerant motel with their traditional and regressive ideas about what counted as “acceptable” love.  

“Louis, how many times must we share the recollection of you doing the very same thing to me?” Harry scolded, deciding it was high time he got out of bed and put the busy night ahead into motion.

Louis rolled his eyes and staggered to the window, only pulling one thumbtack from the wall before Harry stopped him.

“No, babe, I’ll get this. You get dressed,” the vampire offered, seeing to the untacking business regardless of Louis’ possible opinions on the matter.

To be honest, Louis was glad he didn’t have to worry about it, quickly changing because that annoying clock now read 6:50. Doesn’t it understand they don’t deserve to be rushed? “Can you go wake the others up?” he asked as he shuffled back into his jeans, considering them clean enough after only one day of wearing them.

“They’re already up and running. Waiting on us, actually,” Harry informed, the blanket falling down to the floor after the final tack had been plucked away.

“Wow, really? How’d they all wake up so early?” Louis wondered, stuffing his pyjama pants into his backpack and flipping the flap closed, adding his shoes to his finished look and tossing the duffle bag toward Harry for the vampire to put away the blanket, and handing him the small box to drop all the tacks into.

Once both the blanket and box were back in their special bag, the couple slung all their other bags on their shoulders, clutching the room key and stepping out into the hallway.

At the sound of Harry and Louis’ exit, the two other couples emerged from their rooms all packed and ready to go, the group giving their greetings to each other and promptly strolling down to the stairs so the humans could get their dinner. They came to the front desk and dropped their keys on the surface, bearing weird looks from a different employee, but no longer feeling the need to justify or cover up their gayness.

They rushed into the dining area, and Louis went straight for the salad bar, dumping an obscene amount of toppings onto a mound of lettuce and dousing it in ranch dressing. He additionally grabbed two bread rolls and a foil-wrapped square of butter to spread on their warm goodness, two grilled chicken breasts completing his meal. He carried his precariously overflowing plate with wobbling food to the table the vampires had claimed as their own, not waiting for Niall and Martin before digging in to save time.

Said companions came to the table with a similar selection of food, both having minor differences that Louis didn’t care enough to mention, and they all ate in silence as their focus was to calm their growling stomachs, not converse about the weather. Louis finished in record time, discarding the paper plate into the nearest trash bin and waltzing back to the table, now having the time to sulk over not getting any sex because food had been more important.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked, his senses to any distress his lover experienced tingling in alert.

“Yeah, fine,” Louis said, a little too brisk to be credible.

Harry frowned but let it go, figuring that whatever was bothering him probably wasn’t a thing to freely talk about in a room crawling with humans...maybe not even something he could say in their immediate company.

Niall and Martin cleaned their plates at roughly the same time, Tanner considerately taking Niall’s and stacking it onto his, walking both over to the trash can and tossing them in. Harry and Louis stood to commence the departure, and the group took the hint, lifting their bags and walking as one to the ajar door of the dining room to further leave the motel altogether.

They passed the front doors, followed out by the speculative glare of the desk man, and crossed the sleet-covered parking lot, accordingly cursing aloud at the misfortunate of the climate—maybe they really _should_ have added talk of weather into dinner time.

“How are we supposed to drive in this?” Louis complained, the soles of his shoes slipping across the icy pavement as he nerve-rackingly lost his balance. Harry caught him without a second’s delay, righting his wobbles and holding tightly in case letting go would cause an all-out tumble.

“We don’t,” Zayn said obviously, sighing and guiding Niall across the lot to at least _get_ to their van.

Harry, Louis, Martin, and Tanner clumsily followed, the humans slipping every third step and scaring the shit out of their easily concerned vampires. They reached the Volkswagen and opened the back hatch to throw their bags in one by one, subsequently slipping their way to the side doors to pile in and plan what they would do.

Once everyone was seated and decently comfortable, Zayn turned around and sparked the conversation. “Alright, so what’s the plan?” he asked, taking note of Niall rapidly rubbing his palms together and leaning in to unexpectedly bite into his neck and drink some of his blood.

Niall keened high in his throat and pushed into the fangs, his reddened hands from the cold pawing at his lover’s back as an orgasm crashed into him. It embarrassed him to come so quickly, but he hadn’t been given this feeling for a long extent of time now, and the overwhelmingly fast climax was a natural result of that.

Louis’ sudden arousal blasted over his particularly susceptible mind, his discomforted shifting in his seat alluding that he'd been struck with a rather painful erection, vying in jealousy for the euphoric rush that Niall was outwardly moaning in.

“Louis, you don't even need to ask,” Harry murmured, palming at his human’s hardened crotch as he nicked the skin of his neck with the tip of his fangs, just a short tease before happily sinking them down into his throbbing flesh.

Louis’ world exploded with the adored and recently maniacally coveted sensation of his vampire’s bite, his eyes squeezing closed as he parted his lips in bliss, not having the energy to move his hands anywhere like Niall had.

He distantly heard a moan behind him made by the promptly bitten Tanner, but that recognition was a only a passing thought, his mind completely engrossed in the synapses that were firing in sheer merriment from Harry’s saliva endorphins.

Locked away and unconditionally overtaken within the secured grasp of the enslaving perfection that a bite gave made Louis fully comprehend how a human could be content with this act leading to their death. Dying might be scary when you imagine it in your right mind, but if you got to feel this up until the last moment? Bring death on.

He reached his climax at the perfect time, his overwhelmed gasp being the only sound that he let out of his tempted throat. He was beyond proud of himself for not coming in his pants from the intense orgasm Harry had given him, but he was also highly confused.

Harry released Louis from his bite, backing up as he stretched out on the bench and bringing Louis along with him, the two recreating the position Martin and Tanner had napped in on their way here.

Louis offhandedly understood why Zayn had suddenly struck out for Niall’s neck like a cobra who had watched their food until the attack scheme was thoroughly considered, and Louis was happy that he’d done such a compassionate thing. See, the humans had all been shivering and cold, and by taking in their blood, their immortals could now offer coveted warmth from their bodies that they hadn’t previously had to share. How fucking sweet are they?

The period of recovery that ensued was a lengthy one, the fulfilled pairs of lovers spending extra time pampering doting on each other as they marinated in their happy, post-bite thrills.

Once every head had cleared of the intoxicated fog that had settled to cope with the supernatural magic of blood-drinking, Niall broke the silence, a rather embarrassing request spilling from his mouth. “Can I get some new clothes?” he whimpered to Martin, who was just pulling away from lazily kissing Tanner’s full lips.

“Yeah,” the butler approved, bending over the last row of seats and down into the storage area, lifting the curtain to drop over his back as he fumbled around for Niall’s Niall-scented bag. He grabbed a pair of underwear and jeans, then fished through Tanner’s bag for the same thing, already aware that Louis didn't need any.

He handed Tanner his and threw Niall’s to him over Harry’s head, Niall catching the articles and staring at Louis’ empty hands. “Why don't you need a change?” he asked, a little frustrated that he couldn’t control his body's natural reactions like Louis apparently could.

“He's used to me,” Harry replied, closing his arms around Louis’ adorably small frame and rocking them back and forth. “Your body knows me so well, I'm so happy,” he preened, Louis giggling at his affectionate behavior.

“Aw, stuff it,” Niall bit lightheartedly, struggling out of his damp clothes as Zayn leaned over to be of assistance.

Harry and Louis then promptly averted their eyes and laid down on the bench to make out while Tanner and Niall rapidly changed their clothes, the blonde leaving his crusty pants near his feet out of respect for Martin.

Once they were all dressed and dry, Zayn picked up where he’d originally left off, re-asking the question that no response could have come from at the time. “What do?”

Harry lazily smiled and carded his fingers through Louis’ hair like a cat, making use of his newfound body heat and sliding his other hand up the back of Louis’ shirt, rubbing at the defined spinal cord as he bathed the whole area in cozy warmth. “We go back to sleep,” he drawled, Louis practically there already with no prior instruction.

Zayn opened and closed his mouth, finding little to no fault in that logic, as long as they woke up at a reasonable time. “First person to wake up, wake everyone else,” he stressed as he moved over to Niall’s seat to get away from the obstructive steering wheel and place the blonde on his lap instead, getting short “mmhm”s from Louis and Harry, but nothing from Martin and Tanner.

“Are you two awake back there?” he asked, too tired to turn around and check himself.

Harry tilted his face toward the pair, chuckling because they were already sound asleep, and probably had been the second Tanner had dressed. “They’re out,” he informed, all conversation fizzling out afterward as the four best friends gradually dozed off, helpless to their identical waves of drowsiness. That’s what they all get for not drinking blood for the entire drive. Actually...Martin and Tanner _had_. Perhaps they were just avid sleepers.

 

\---

 

“Zayn!” Harry snapped, startling the other creatures out of their slumber right away.

“Shit, what?” Zayn asked worriedly, his head whipping around to the outsides of their van as he held Niall tighter in his lap, nosing scrunching as he sniffed around for enemy scents.

“It’s fucking midnight!” Harry shouted, not angry at anyone in particular, rather their heedless irresponsibility as a whole.

“How did we do that?” Zayn asked dumbly, the humans and Martin shocked to hear the news as well.

“I don’t know, but we need to go... Right now,” Harry pressed impatiently when Zayn made no rushed movements to the driver’s seat, watching as the Pakistani placed Niall down where he'd just been and scrambled over to said seat in understanding.

Zayn turned the key he fished out of his pocket and halted for a few frustrating seconds to let the engine catch up to his impatient keenness to get a move on.

Martin and Tanner were tempted to just go back to sleep and hope no one noticed, but now probably just wasn’t the best time, choosing instead to huddle up while Martin debated drinking more of Tanner’s delectable essence to stay warm for him.

Zayn slowly backed out of the parking spot they’d landed in and sighed with unparalleled relief to discover the ground was clear of the slippery frost it’d had when they’d first stepped out of the motel. In theory it made no sense, because the temperatures had only dropped since then, but he took it for what it was and shifted his thoughts to the pressing matters. “What’s our route now?” he asked, Harry snagging the map from Niall to read it quickly in the dark without the fated interference of that torturous flashlight.

“We’re in murphy, right? Get on OR-138, and take it to Canyonville,” he instructed, Zayn adopting a look of confusion over the contradictory plan to Harlock’s.

“But that’s not what—”

“Harlock’s way will take us a lot longer and we need to conserve our time right now,” Harry explained, Zayn’s undefeated faith in Harry taking precedence over the directions of the eyepatch vamp.

“Got it,” Zayn obeyed, turning down the road they’d come to the motel from to get back to where the highway exits and entrances were. “How long until we get to Canyonville?” he asked, groaning over the fact that they would need to stop for gas before getting on any such highway.

“About nine hours if we include stops for gasoline,” Harry said, his instantaneous calculations of the miles impressing every member of his present company.

“Alright, and then what?” Zayn inquired, asking questions in such quick succession because he had the ability to retain it all in his mind. He wouldn’t need to ask twice.

“ _Then_ ,” Harry thoughtfully drew out with an elongated tone, his eyes rapidly jumping from detail to detail on the aged map. “From Canyonville, we’ll get on the I-5, and take it down through the border of California, and into South Lake Tahoe,” he said, already doing the math on that second leg because Zayn’s follow-up question was tangible in the air.

“And how long will—”

“Eight hours.”

“Jesus, that’s seventeen hours!” Zayn cried, infuriated that they couldn’t just go through Nevada, but that really would be horrendous if they were caught in that magnitude of sunlight.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry agreed, the same thought process flashing through both of their minds.

“If it’s midnight now, we’re gonna get to Tahoe at like...four o’clock in the afternoon. And that’s actually a hopeful estimate,” he grumbled, stepping on the gas they were burning to its last remains anyhow.

“We shouldn’t stay over anywhere else. We’ll get you guys some non-perishable food at a truck stop to eat and keep with us, and anything else there that you want, and then we’ll have to sleep in the back when the sun rises,” Harry added to his immortal pals, Martin finally speaking up for the first time so far.

“That’s totally fine with us, Harry. Whatever we need to do,” the butler piped, his adoring human planting a kiss on his cheek for being so adaptable and well-adjusted.

“Thanks for the cooperation, though it would have happened with or without your tolerance,” Harry chuckled, checking the necessities map for the nearest truck stop. He voiced the location of said establishment and hung back for a while, Louis whispering sweet nothings to him to sooth his sudden onset load of stress.

“Hey, humans?” Zayn addressed, feeling like a dunce for doing so, but needing to specify quickly.

“Yes, vampire?” Louis responded, Niall and Tanner giggling to themselves over the odd interaction.

“Are you guys gonna be able to handle this day drive? You should really take shifts sleeping, or we’ll buy you a bunch of soda pop to keep you wired, I don’t know, something that might help. Do you think you can do it by switching off who’s driving?” he asked, an important basis to to mention before any further planning.

“Yes,” Louis assured, the other two nodding along to the unshakable claim. They would all do what they needed to do, and the vampires saw it on their faces.

“Good...let’s hope you’re right,” Zayn teased, knowing that most of the driving duty would fall on his precious and more experienced Niall, but having it on good faith that the blonde delicacy could withstand and dismiss every inkling of exhaustion that ambled his way.

They soon pulled off into the run-down truck stop Harry had found on the traveler’s guide map, lining the bulky van with the closest pump and getting out to flock to the dimly lit building that’s electricity was non-stop flickering its way toward useless.

“Which pump is it?” Harry asked, leaning his neck back to check the number himself.

“Two,” Zayn said, slapping a ten dollar bill into Harry's hand because the oil crisis this year had inflated the price of gas to fifty-five cents a gallon, and ten whole bucks was shockingly what was needed to fill a 14.6 gallon tank.

Harry pocketed the bill and, corralling the humans to come along, headed for the entrance, while Zayn and Martin stayed behind to watch for threats and look after the van.

Niall, Tanner, and Louis were abuzz with the promise of food, and they skipped their way to the entrance, all blabbing about their favourite snacks to eat on the way. The door was opened for them by the respectful Roman chaperone, and they poured into the heated interior, immediately veering off in different directions to find what they deemed most worthy of consumption.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Harry _tsk_ ed, herding the little humans back into his arms to stop them from recklessly wandering off. “All of you need to stay in my direct line of sight. We’ll zig-zag through the aisles, and you just pick out what you want, but follow me to the counter first,” he compromised, guiding them to the service station and sliding the ten Zayn had given him to the long-bearded man behind the register. “For two,” he informed, subsequently leading the humans down the first row of snacks as they grudgingly went along with the patronizing treatment. It was in their best interests, and they knew that.

This row held no interest for Louis whatsoever, because it was chock-full of chocolates and other decadent sweets, and just the thought of the sugar was making his stomach churn uneasily. Niall on the other hand was practically drooling at the selections, and it was clearly taking everything in him to deny the impulse to grab one of each treat.

They snaked around to the next aisle, and this one was more promising. It consisted of chips and crackers, and Louis’ body took him straight to the collection of Saltines on the lowest shelf, cradling the rectangular box and looking to Harry just to confirm his pick was okay, even though Harry had made it clear that anything would be.

“Sure,” Harry said with a smile, even taking the box for him so he wouldn’t have to carry it.

Louis resisted the urge to kiss Harry in gratitude, because if they thought being openly gay in a motel was shady, a truck stop full of big hairy men definitely held even murkier outcomes. Sure, Harry would leave them all in a heap of fat, smelly bodies, but they didn’t need the bonus strain. They were absorbed enough.  

Harry caught the rejected temptation and gave a sly wink to show he’d captured the intention, turning on his heel when Martin and Tanner unintentionally began to slip past him, beckoning Louis to stay close behind. Louis didn’t look at what items the other boys had gotten, but they each had several things in their hands, so it looked like they would have a decent potluck in their shared items.

They continued on in the same deliberate system, plucking little things here and there and contemplating what else they could want when they finally came to the end. Harry reminded them of the suggestion Zayn had made pertaining to soda pop, and they had to admit the idea was a pretty good one. The pop would be used as a drastic measure only, saved and untouched up until the last moment when they would honestly crash without its boost.

They all individually picked out Dr. Pepper, laughing between themselves for having the same idea without any premeditated discussion. Harry’s arms were full so he let them carry their bottles, strutting to the front desk and asking for a pack of smokes to go with the more or less junk food that made up the purchase.

The scruffy man abided and pinched the pack Harry pointed to between beefy fingers, laying it atop the food pile and taking the first item in his hand, squinting his eyes at the price tag and punching the corresponding typewriter-like keys to ring it up. He went through the whole bunch and saved the cigarettes for last, adding up the accumulated price and calculating the sales tax. “Five dollars and twenty-five cents,” he said, Harry taking out crumpled ones and a quarter from his pocket as the man threw all the items into a large paper bag.

The man then counted the wads of money on the counter and flicked two of the dollars back at Harry, straightening out the rest and sticking them in the cash drawer. “Have a nice night,” he said, giving the odd trio a tight smile.

They walked out with the bag of goodies in Harry's arms, savouring their last taste of free movement before they’d be confined in the van for the next seventeen or so hours. The measures they had to take to steer clear of Nevada were preposterous. Taking that route, they could reach South Lake Tahoe in probably seven hours, but it was indisputable that they couldn’t chance the desert sun just to make a short-cut. Vampires’ health came first when so little could take them down. Standing their ground against Auron’s loyal followers with incapacitated immortal guardians was not a pleasant concept.

“We good?” Zayn asked, tipping the lanky service attendant as he shook the nozzle around in the tank’s chamber to expel every last drop of their money’s worth of fuel.

“Yup,” Niall replied, climbing his way into the passenger seat while the rest of the creatures got in through the sides, setting the bag Harry had handed over down by his feet, albeit atop his crusted jeans, but everything was packaged after all.

“Alright, on we go,” Zayn said, starting the van and pulling back out to the main road, directed by Harry on how to reach the Idaho/Oregon border. They had a limited amount of time before the sun would come up knock the vampires out, so the humans got as much deep relaxation and light sleep in as they could, preparing themselves to possess the sole and kind of scary responsibility of getting the group to Tahoe.

The rest of the time was filled with road trip games and traditions, including a fierce match of ‘I Spy,’ another round of ‘Truth Or Dare,’ with reasonable dares given in the small environment of a car, and a thrilling tournament of ‘The Alphabet Game.’

The fun and easygoing vibes ended pretty quickly when the sky got a tiny shade lighter, Louis checking his watch and discovering it was getting close to five in the morning. “It’s started,” he said in reference to the daily process of sun, his tone implying that he considered sunrise to be a hateful and barbaric system, when in reality, it didn’t quite deserve any form of harsh words. Just science doing its job.

The vampires all seemed to tense when the impending daylight was brought under focus, each fretting over their human being left alone to their own devices while they were dead to the world; the world of unequivocal danger that they were forced to pass through and hope to be unnoticed while they did it. Could their situation get any worse?

“I don’t want to sleep back there,” Harry grumbled in a petulant tone, but Louis knew there was something else besides the obvious that was bothering Harry.

“What’s up, Harry?” Louis asked, somehow making it clear that he meant the extra nagging on Harry’s mind.

“I just can’t help feeling like something bad is going to happen,” Harry admitted, the vampires around him humming in agreement as they grappled with the same scary concept.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Niall assured with no way of knowing if it would turn out to be true. “We’ll stay awake, we’ll follow the map, and we’ll be in Tahoe by the time you wake up. Erakus’s family will have a garage or something to pull into, and they’ll carry you inside, and we’ll take a nap with you until you wake up,” he predicted logically, neither of the other two humans able to say that they'd thought that far ahead.

“You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?” Zayn praised, making obscene kissy noises as he pointed to his cheek.

Niall giggled and leaned across the alley between the seats to give him the kiss he was so cutely asking for, and Louis jokingly gagged in disgust.

“Oh, please, Louis. You and Harry are so much worse, and you know it,” Niall challenged, his hands reaching for the map in Harry’s so he could study it more himself.

Harry released custody of the maps and turned his body away from the front seats, knowing that flashlight would come into play again, and wanting to have his gaze entirely elsewhere when it happened. Louis was a good object of that gaze.  

Louis’ peripheral vision observed Harry staring at him until he couldn’t take it anymore, looking over to meet Harry’s eyes and then immediately looking away. He repeated that gesture five or six times, his smile growing with every lock of their gazes, and then he finally snapped. “What are you looking at?” he laughed, Harry’s eyes twinkling with a seriousness that hadn’t been in them before.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, Louis blushing almost painfully hard at the quick compliment.

“What?” Louis cackled, over the moon that such a statement would almost subconsciously come out of Harry’s mouth when he had nothing else to say.

“You’re beautiful. I don’t know how you see yourself, but you really are just gorgeous,” Harry praised, each word sending Louis deeper into a spiral of nervous stomach butterflies.

“See?” Niall said pointedly, motioning to the two of them with the head of the non-brightened flashlight. “Told you you were worse,” he quipped.

Zayn muttered over to the side because he actually wanted to be the worst, and he turned to give Niall the exact same compliment...at the same time the blonde turned on the menacing flashlight. “You’re beautifu— _agggh_!” he growled, shielding his face while Niall pressed the beam up against his chest to hide the light.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” the blonde cried frantically, Martin and Tanner losing their minds in the back with laughter. “But...were you about to say—”

“You’re beautiful,” Zayn rasped, the sacrifices he’d made to tell Niall he was beautiful greatly outweighing the worth of Harry’s flippant comment. _Who’s the top dog now_?

“Aww, _Zayn_ ,” Niall cooed, giggling to himself as he carefully aimed the flashlight onto the map.

“I'm starting to get tired,” Martin informed, Tanner holding tighter to his upper body as if that could keep him awake.

Harry scoffed. “Martin, lately you're always tired. You had sun sickness, remember?” he reminded, instead assessing himself and his own energy for a fair judgment. “Alright, I'm tired too. Maybe you're onto something,” he admitted, the sky taunting the immortals as it jumped a shade lighter.

“What about you, Zayn?” Louis checked, Zayn’s coherence being the most important because he was the one driving a moving vehicle.

Zayn thought about it and found a good spot to pull over, keeping the engine running while he put the emergency brake on. “It's best to switch now,” he informed, spending some personal time to give sweet kisses to his Niall’s lips.

All the couples began to kiss to say their temporary goodbye’s, and then the move commenced. Martin lifted the bottom of the black curtain and began distributing the stacked bags onto his and Tanner’s bench as the frizzy-haired human moved to the next one up.

It was a small struggle for space as each creature slid past each other to make room, but Martin had gotten all of the bags out of the back and was staring down at the area with a disgusted look on his face. “This is a really tight fit,” he groaned, the other two vampires leaning over the back and peering down into their sleeping place.

“How the fuck…” Zayn muttered, shrugging his shoulders and turning to give Niall a quick kiss before diving down into the storage compartment. “Oh holy—there's barely enough room for me! Ugh, fine. Come on down,” he said to whomever would stuff themselves into the back next.

That immortal turned out to be Martin, and he wrapped Tanner in his arms while he repeatedly kissed his huge curly hair, tilting the boy’s chin up to press a kiss to the freckled birthmark on the edge of his upper lip. “See you in a bit,” he whispered, slowly lowering himself down on top of Zayn because jumping in would piss him off to the nth degree.

Harry was last to sigh his lungs out, taking Louis’ hands in his and folding them under his chin as he sent a prayer to the Gods he hadn't spoken to in such a very long time.

“Get some sleep, we'll take it from here,” Louis assured, squeezing Harry’s gentle hands and popping up on his tiptoes to be able to reach Harry's pursed lips, kissing them to attention as they scrambled to mold to his. Louis pulled off with a loud smack, dominantly spanking Harry’s rear as he sent him off.

Harry erupted in a short bout of high-pitched laughter, covering his arse as he shuffled away, looking back at Louis with an expression of impressed and happy surprise. “If my love commands,” he accepted, Louis’ confidence doing wonders for his own.

He piled in above his friends and they all managed to laugh at their predicament, limbs getting crushed as they arranged themselves in a semi tolerable formation.

The humans peeked into the storage compartment and busted up in shrieking cackles, their immortals making too hilarious a sight to behold without reacting. They were all completely squished together and folded over each other to try and fit, and they'd somehow done it perfectly.

“You guys looks ridiculous!” Niall screeched, his cheeks hurting as he tried futilely to hold his grin at bay.

“Laugh it up, Niall. Just be thankful this isn't you,” Zayn gritted, crushed under the added weight of both Harry and Martin.

“Are you seriously going to sleep like that?” Louis questioned, giving the heap of vampires a dubious look.

“You'd be amazed,” Harry sighed, giving a lopsided and particularly forced smile.

“Well best of luck,” Louis said, dropping the curtain down for one of them with a free enough arm to situate.

Small yaps of complaint and argument came from the vampires for the next thirty seconds as Niall took the driver's seat and pulled onto the road, but then it faded out, the immortals assumedly succumbing to sleep as the sky finally gave enough light to see the world with.

Louis sighed and walked up to the passenger seat, sitting down as delicately and tiredly as a pregnant woman on the last month of her third trimester would. He just didn't have the spirit to turn their road trip into a party; they were on their own now, and left completely without the vampires’ help. Should they run into trouble, they’d have to solve it themselves.

It sounded childish and incompetent, but remember who their enemies are: _other_ _vampires_. They weren't helpless babies who couldn't use eating utensils or go to the bathroom by themselves, but against evil vampires, yeah, that's exactly what they were. 

“You guys wanna talk about our lives?” Tanner suggested, seated right behind them and idly playing a string game with his dexterous fingers, working on what looked to be the Jacob’s Ladder shape.

“Our lives?” Louis repeated in puzzlement, looking first to Niall’s distracted driving face, then back to Tanner.

“Yeah,” Tanner said breezily, hooking the furthermost line of the infinite string loop over his thumbs, changing the shape of his creation when he stretched it back out. “I mean if all goes well, we just might end up being friends forever, right?” he said, Louis and Niall nodding in fond agreement. “Well, I know you two know each other, but I don't. Not nearly enough. Let's share some stories,” he proposed, finally finishing his Jacob’s Ladder and whooping as he stared down at it in pride.

Louis and Niall played a quick, instinctive game of rock-paper-scissors for a chance to get the first turn—they both loved talking about themselves—but Louis won the round. Then he won best two out of three as well.

“Hah!” he exclaimed, whirling around in his chair and facing Tanner head-on, ready and willing to break down the events in his life that had inexplicably led to this.

 

\---

 

After three or four more nerve-racking stops for gas, so called because they obviously couldn't ignore the fact that the vampires were in the back of the van, and plenty of junk food snackage, they were finally within the boundaries of Canyonville. The only step left was to merge on I-5, and that highway would take them straight to their destination.

They'd forgotten to call Harlock and Jenner at a payphone to let them know where they were, but they all made themselves swear they'd remember on the next stop. Being Cali bound was immensely exciting, and they couldn't wait to experience the stark change of pace. Everyone knows California is the golden state; the place where everything happens. Where dreams are made. Where stars are born. Even though that fast-paced lifestyle is mostly found in the southern region of the state—Hollywood and Los Angeles in general—and Tahoe is on the complete opposite side, just being in the state would be enough for Louis.

One hour and somewhere around forty minutes later, they were close. The signs for Siskiyou started to say things like fifteen miles away, and the humans were so unbelievably happy they'd almost made it with no issues. The border was basically under their wheels, and the air was already cleaner.

“We gotta pull off when we get there. Put our first California gas into our California van,” Louis suggested, his eyes shimmering and wide with glee as he took in the environment that would lead them into the state.

“You're really excited about California, aren't you?” Niall laughed, his anticipation not quite reaching the heights of Louis’.

“Beaches!” Louis cried as though it were obvious.

“Louis, Tahoe doesn't have beaches,” Niall chortled.

“Maybe someday when this is all over, Erakus will take us to a beach,” Tanner supplied, trying to comfort Louis before he got too disappointed.

“I'll make him,” Louis smirked, his eyes bugging as the border came into view, revealing the chilling fact that all passing cars were being checked by policemen. “Uh, what the hell is this?” he asked with a shaky voice, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the vampires who were lifelessly curled up together in the back of the van.

“Guys? We have to play it _cool_ ,” Niall said sternly, his skin breaking out in a sweat that would definitely not help their case.

“But what do we _do_?” Louis squealed, tempted to ask Niall to turn around and bolt, but that would be even more suspicious, and now they had cars behind them.

“We act casual,” Tanner ordered, his fear over cops having started at the ripe age of thirteen when he'd started running from his foster homes.

“This didn't happen at the other state border!” Louis reasoned, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he looked back once more at the black curtain that suspiciously hid their lovers.

“Maybe California is different?” Niall guessed, the grip he was forcing on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

“No,” Tanner immediately negated, the verdict in his tone winning both Niall and Louis’ anxious gazes. “Harlock and Erakus wouldn't have sent us off on a doomed mission. Erakus’s family would have mentioned if this was a thing to look out for. This is circumstantial,” he said with furrowed brows, biting his lip as he tried to formulate how to get through this unscathed.

“So why do you think they're here then?” Louis wondered, his legs bouncing up and down because his ankles would not stop twitching no matter how hard he tried to calm them.

Tanner pondered it for a few seconds, his fingers absentmindedly grasping at a section of his ringlet hair and smoothing it out to twice its natural length, releasing it from his pinch and letting it spring back into place. “Maybe they're looking for someone?” he supposed, no other specific ideas coming to mind. And honestly, it didn't really matter why...just how they would proceed.

“Well they're about to find more than they asked for,” Louis whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as Niall reluctantly rolled the van closer. The line between them and the cops was steadily dwindling, and this was Louis’ worst nightmare.

“Just keep a level head,” Tanner snapped, not meaning to be so short with his new friends, but this was no time for panicking—internally, maybe...but not outwardly, or they were doomed.

“Dunno how you expect me to do that, but okay,” Louis grunted, just as they pulled up to the stoic and emotionally void cops, Niall opening his window to speak with them.

“Afternoon, officers,” the blonde greeted joyously, hoping his enthusiasm didn't raise any extra suspicions. “Anything wrong?” he asked, mentally exploding because his acting was terrible.

“The state of California has been experiencing an increase in drug-muling and illegal immigration this week. Can I see some identification?” the man in blue quipped, his gloved hand held out impatiently.

Niall sprung into action and assaulted his back pocket with his sweaty hand for his his wallet, but Louis was slower to comply. “I'm still in high school,” he said, leaning over Niall’s twitchy form to converse with the cop.

“Yeah, you look like it,” the cop responded, peeking through the window as he took Niall’s driver’s license to lock eyes with Tanner. “How ‘bout you?” he asked with a jut of his chin.

“I'm poor, I don’t have a license,” Tanner said, wiping his clammy palms on his thighs because the policeman couldn't see the moment of weakness.

The man hummed and squinted his eyes at Niall’s Idaho I.D. card, nodding to himself and handing it back. “Are you three the only ones in the vehicle?” he asked, watching closely for any tells in the boys’ reactions.  

“Just us,” Niall quipped, a falsely concocted and wide, toothy smile plastering itself to his face.

“Uh-huh,” the cop hummed dubiously, his eyes shifting to the covered back of their van. “And what's in there?” he asked, cocking his head in that direction.

“Nothing!” Louis, Niall, and Tanner all yelled entirely too quickly, the cop’s eyes narrowing to slits in response.

“Okay, I'm just going to check,” the cop said icily, making his way down to the back of the van while the humans were stuck suffering the beginning stages of heart attacks.

“We are so fucked,” Louis quietly sobbed, his head hung down in shame so he wouldn't witness the the next few terrible moments.

Niall and Tanner shared petrified looks, both staring at the back of the van even though the curtains would block all view of the officer’s face. They all heard the back hatch pop open and they flinched like startled cats, adopting the ‘no evil’ proverb—Louis’ hands covering his eyes, Niall’s hands covering his ears, and Tanner’s hands covering his mouth.

“What the—” the cop exclaimed, “—I need backup!” he shouted to his squad that were surveying the line of cars for any frantic behavior, the flabbergasted cop waiting for his group to arrive and see this for themselves.

Louis was full-on crying now, his mind on the brink of an irreversible meltdown; this is how Louis would finally lose his mind. The end of his life as he knew it.

The boys waited in amped silence as they strained their ears to hear the words of the buzzing policemen. Louis vaguely heard things that sounded like “no pulse” and “call this in,” and then one of the officers sprinted down the side of the van and flew into the little station shack that lied on the border line.

The crowd of policemen suddenly flanked all sides of the Volkswagen, and the original one who had asked for their identification appeared on the passenger side of the window with a gun in hand. “Get out of the vehicle now!” he commanded, no room in hell to refuse.

All four doors were opened by armed cops, and the three humans were yanked out like sacks of potatoes. Louis squeaked when his officer slammed him up against the side of the van after he'd kicked the door closed, the handle digging painfully into Louis’ chest bone.

“Hands on your head!” the cop snarled, Louis scrambling to comply. He was then patted down with unnecessary force, every crevice of his body groped and felt up in a way that had him squirming a hefty number of times.

Once the cop deemed him weaponless, he grabbed his wrists and wrangled them sharply away from his head. Louis’ hands were forced all the way behind his back at his tailbone, and he felt the cold, ensnaring weight of metal cuffs clink around his wrists, his officer spouting off a bunch of shit he'd only ever heard in his government class: “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before police questioning,” he recited, Louis barely understanding a word of it before he was carted off to be roughly sat down on a curb.

Louis’ mind was reeling with the endless possibilities of what this meant for his future. He looked like a murderer now, even if no evidence could be pinned on him, what if they still didn't believe him? He was obviously involved in _something_ , carrying dead bodies around in a car with two teenagers, so would he serve time anyway? Would this make the news? Would everyone know his identity? Would he ever be able to find work or live among society as a human again? Was the unidentified Harry with no living relatives about to be _burned alive in a morgue somewhere?_

Louis only had one thing to say in the face of this catastrophe, and he really hoped it wouldn't be used against him in a court of law. “ _Jupiter_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. GUYYYYSSSS. I wrote this chapter A NIGHT before Louis got arrested in the airport with Eleanor. A NIGHT. YOU CAN'T IMAGINE MY FACE WHEN I READ THE HEADLINE AHAHHAA.


	11. Please, Mr. Jailer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY PADDY'S. HERE'S SOME SHIT.  
> Notes: you know that scene I said I'd start uploading after? Yeah, its in this chapter. You'll know the one.
> 
> *** !!!! ELEMENTS OF NON-CON !!!!! ****

All of Louis’ life, he’d never imagined himself to be caught in this position. Hands cuffed, head hung low as backup police cars sped closer in the distance to ship him off to jail. Jail. _JAIL_. Not only was he not guilty of a crime, but the “crime” it did look like was one of the worst you could imagine. Carting mysterious dead bodies over state lines in a hippie van that to the policemen’s knowledge, were killed by the three boys they were arresting.

Louis had no idea what jail was truly like, only what rumors and speculation had alluded to. That it was a terrible place filled with real killers and malicious people. He definitely didn’t belong in a place like that, but he needed to get used to the idea real quick because pretty soon, he’d be there. Regardless, Louis’ main concern was still his boyfriend, who would unknowingly endure being taken to...wherever dead bodies go. He would of course wake up at some point, and considering it was around four-thirty in the afternoon, that time was relatively soonish...but would it be soon enough? Would something else happen first?

He steered his mind from the very real threat of Harry being thrown in an oven, and focused on his friends, who were in just as deep shit as he was. It seemed like Niall and Tanner’s police had just wrapped up their “remaining silent” speeches as well, and the two anxious boys were similarly guided to the curb with their hands trapped behind their backs, each placed far away from each other so they couldn't “try anything.”

Louis wanted to reach out more than anything, but that would just land them in even _deeper_ shit. He hoped they would at least be put in the same facility, because he doesn’t think he could handle being separated from the only two friends he has for the rest of his life as they all rotted away in different prisons. Then again...there’s no way their boyfriends wouldn’t come for them, right? Honestly though, breaking them out of jail or prison almost sounded like a crazier idea. _How did it come to this?_

It felt like years that Louis’ designated officer’s thumbs were grinding into his upper arm; like he'd been sat on this curb awaiting an ominous fate for half his life. The sound of distant sirens made him look up from his Adidas shoes, but the transport vehicles behind the ambulance were the attention-grabbing part. Two coroner’s vans. _Shit._ All groups of newcomers rushed out of their trucks and flew into Marley’s borrowed bus, each barking out clinical terms that made no sense.

Louis’ heart suddenly skipped a beat as he realized what was about to happen to their undisturbed immortals, but he couldn’t fight it. Trying to calmly explain that the dead boys were actually just sleeping vampires would not blow over well at all, and it would likely land him in a mental institution instead of jail, and from what he'd learned of looney bins, he'd rather do time in a penitentiary, worrying about things like dropping soap, versus sustaining electricity volts into his brain.

He bit back a new batch of tears and helplessly watched the scene play out before him, the ambulance workers hopping out from the Volkswagen and solemnly shaking their heads, and a group of men in odd jumpsuits promptly infiltrating next, while another handful stood back with specifically prepared stretchers.

He could hear the pained wails of torment from Niall and Tanner as their unsuspecting vampires were loaded in body bags atop stretchers, the boys sobbing and choking as the bags were zipped up, the stretchers put back into the spacious van. Louis watched Harry being transferred next, offhandedly wondering how their sleeping positions had changed so drastically for Harry to end up being last, and silently shut his eyes when he finally caught sight of his ancient Roman.

Knowing Harry was fine did nothing for this situation and how Louis perceived it. All outside factors were telling him that Harry was dead for real, and that’s what he was serving an unknown amount of jail time for. For him, right here and now, Harry Styles _was_ dead. Okay, well yes, technically he is regardless, but you know what he means. _Actually_ dead.

He reluctantly opened his eyes to find Harry had been placed on the stretcher, some ignorant fool moving his arm that had fallen to hang over the side back into the bag. Out of all the times Harry had flinched or moved while he was asleep, and he had to choose _today_ to remain motionless. That went for the other two immortals as well; none of them had made any signs of being kind of alive at all, and it was frustrating because they have definitely been known to. (See: Harry almost gnawing on Louis’ wrist when he touched his lips, and Zayn trapping Niall on the bed). Fucking hell. Maybe it was still somehow better this way. They still wouldn't have pulses even if they were moving, and that would for sure spike the attention of mad scientists everywhere...maybe they subconsciously sensed the danger.

Louis took in the tiny glimpse of Harry’s profile he could see from his spot on the ground, and quickly looked away as the zipper was slowly moved up to cover him. Damn these people for touching him with their stupid little hands. Do they have any idea where that Elder has _been_? No, of course they don’t. And Louis can’t expect them to, either. Hence why he’s picking prison over bin.

The two coroner vans started up and began to turn away, driving back the way they came, the state of Oregon apparently taking control of the bodies. Why does he keep saying bodies? This is all just the vampires sleeping. It all felt too real. The wee-wooing sirens of the extra cop cars, however, came over the other side of the border, the state of California apparently taking control of the “criminals.” Why that inconsistency was at play, Louis had no idea. It made no sense, but neither did his life.

“Get up,” his officer snarled in disgust, no doubt having the lowest opinion of the teenage boys right now.

It’s not like Louis was given a say in the matter, and he was heaved up by the man anyway, the same death-grip he’d had on his upper arm earlier digging into his flesh—this was definitely going to bruise. He was half walked, half dragged to the first cop car, and thrown into the back of it like a slab of beef in a butcher shop. The door was slammed behind him before he could even sit up straight, and he didn’t even try to discern the muffled words that were coming from the outside. He looked up when Niall and Tanner were guided past him, and they all shared the exact same look with each other that was undisputable in its translation— _we are so totally fucked_.

The driver and his partner sat down into the front, Louis’ vision on them slightly skewed through the little diamonds of the metal barrier between them. “Where are you taking me?” he asked as the passenger snorted into his coffee cup.

“None of your damn business, now keep your mouth shut,” the man replied, the driver starting the car and whipping his siren back on, the sound of it much more muffled within the car than from the outside.

The moment they passed over the border, with Niall and Tanner’s cars yet to be in tow, Louis had to bite back an egregiously ill-timed laugh—at least he’d gotten to California.  

 

\---

 

Louis had done as was asked by the talkative officers, keeping his mouth shut and staring out the window to get all the sights of California in while he still could—before all he would see was the inside of a murky cell. His thoughts were torn between the outcome of the vampires’ transport, the mental stability of Niall and Tanner, and the fate of himself.

“Did you hear about Zack’s wife?” the passenger asked, sipping on his coffee that somehow wasn’t empty yet.

“Yeah, Tommy told me. Zack had to come _home_ to that,” the driver scoffed, his detestation of this mysterious wife ringing loud and clear. “Did you hear who it was?”

“What? No, who was it?” the passenger gasped, practically leaning over his seat to hear the tale.

“Zack’s neighbor’s _son_ ,” the driver gushed, the passenger’s jaw dropping open.

“How old is he?” he asked.

“He’s eighteen. Too bad, right? Almost wanted him to be seventeen so we could mess with her,” the driver chuckled.

Louis groaned as quietly as he could manage. He’d had to listen to shit like this for the entire drive. The cops had seemed to forget he even existed, blabbering on about stupid shit like he wasn’t even there. He supposed it was better than being heckled at for his “crimes,” but a silent drive would have been the best scenario.

All at once, in his meditation zone to block out the cops’ yammering, the car rolled over a speed bump, and Louis’ eyes flung open to see what had caused it. Shit. There it was. Out in the distance as the car rolled along a lengthy drive surrounded by chain-link fences, was a pesky-looking and enormous building with a threatening structure and aesthetic that seemed to cackle “you’re doomed” right into his vulnerable face. Louis’ final destination that made absolutely no sense, _even to him_ , who had seen so much out of the ordinary over the last month of his life.

Jail.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, the officers turning their heads to glare at him, probably thinking that he was just upset he'd gotten caught.

He noticed the horde of reporters when the cops did.

“Ah, shit. Pack of wolves,” the driver grimaced, pulling up to the entrance because he was obligated to.

“Can't you make them go away?” Louis asked, dumbfounded that there was no way around this.

“Free press, psycho,” the passenger jeered, shoving his coffee cup in a cupholder and sticking his aviator sunglasses on his face, opening the door as he said, “The American dream!”

Louis whined in disappointment and almost shied away from the arm that opened the back door and reached in for him, but he was already _at_ the jail. No use fighting now.

He scooted his butt across the seats and got hauled the rest of the way out, the harsh flashing of cameras crowding his already suffocating air, the barrage of questions the reporters squawked at him nearly cutting his airflow completely.

“Sir, why were the bodies in the bus?”

“Did you kill those people?”

“Is this your first offense?”

“What are the names of your accomplices?”

“What were the victims’ names?”

“Where are you from?”

“What's your name?”

“Are you ashamed you did it or proud?”

“What do you want the world to know?”

“Was it revenge?”

The questions irritated Louis to immense degrees, and he kept his head down as the cops on either side of him forced their way through the conglomerate of journalists and reporters.

“Alright, alright. Guys, why don't you call it a day? Our bookee isn't going to be answering any questions,” the former driver cop said tiredly, finally breaking through the end of the reporters as they scuttled after them.

“But sir, sir, sir, did you kill those three men? Did you do it? DID YOU KILL THEM?”

“Was this a crime of passion? Was it premeditated?”

“Can you tell us who you are?”

Louis kept his face stuck downcast and felt like he could finally breathe once the cops had led him through the glass doors and into the gloomy clutches of the jail. Ironic that he could breathe better now after entering a claustrophobia-inducing trap.

Louis was walked through a type of waiting room and beyond a locked door that was hastily opened by a dedicated guard. The trio then strode down a long hallway, coming up on a window-paned front desk where a lady in a police outfit relaxed in a chair that was three times too small for her robust hips.

“State your name,” she said as she gathered a new booking form and pinned it underneath the claw of a clipboard.

Louis thought about lying, he really did; this was a new state, they wouldn't know. His fear for what would happen to him if they found out was what broke him in the end. “Louis Tomlinson,” he said clearly, all chance of anonymity disappearing from his grasp.

The cops took over after that as they described the alleged crime and definite illegality of his actions. He sewed his mouth shut so he wouldn't protest the inaccuracies, and then the woman capped her pen and said, “Alright, bring him back.”

The cops grabbed Louis’ arms again and pulled him to the right, taking them through another door to the specific booking area. A new cop met them on the other side, and the passenger from the drive gave him a sharp pat on the shoulder to send him off. “This was fun. We should do it again sometime,” he said facetiously, Louis just barely managing to hold back his signature snark. Now was neither the time, nor the place.  

The room he’d come into had a white sheet background with little black lines and measurement numbers climbing up the middle covering the majority of the right wall, and a camera stood on a tripod that was opposing it in the center of the room.

His wrist was snagged and forced toward a soft pad of ink, the cop twisting his thumb edge to edge to get the full print. He then made the same motion on a sheet of typed paper, documenting his thumbprint and forever marking him into the California criminal justice system.

Louis held back the exasperated sigh that yearned to see the light and let himself be pushed back to stand in line with the backdrop, twisting around when his shoulders were jerked to the left.

“I'll need your profile first, stand just like that,” the guard explained, dashing over to his camera and transfiguring the focus. “Back straight,” he said.

Louis manipulated his tired spine to straightness, staring straight ahead at the door they'd taken to get in here, coercing himself not to flinch when the flash lit up the room in an overkill of blue-tinted white.

“Face center.”

Louis pivoted to face full-frontal, giving the camera the most unimpressed deadpan that bordered on angry he could conjure as the flash locked him into permanent criminal status. He'd briefly considered giving the camera a toothy grin, but considering his crime was bringing dead bodies over a state border, he didn't think that was the best look to be remembered by. He'd really seem psychotic then.

“Right.”

Louis turned one last time, glad he could get in his good side as the camera took the last picture.

“Alright,” the guard said, walking from the camera to the desk where Louis’ clipboard was waiting, likely filling in his height before moving on. He then snapped his fingers until Louis approached, handing him the clipboard and pointing to an exit. “Go through the door,” he instructed, Louis pointing at the door to make sure the guard knew was he was talking about.

“Just walk through there?” Louis asked, taking tiny steps in that direction in case he'd be told to turn around.

“Mmhm,” the guard confirmed, not looking up as he filled more paperwork, none of which Louis could see from his distance. He didn't particularly care, either.

He'd been told to go through the door, so that's what he did, walking out into another bright and annoyingly fluorescent-lit room. “Clipboard,” a guard he hadn't noticed boredly drawled to his left, startling him as he whipped around to face the large man.

He snapped out of his frozen state and slid the clipboard across the desk, the man looking it over and setting it back down. “Personal effects,” he said, a slight speech impediment clouding his pronunciation that Louis hadn't noticed before.

“Like what?” he asked, wondering what constituted as personal effects in this situation.

“Like anything in your pockets,” the man replied, Louis fishing around in his pockets for anything to give. He pulled out a handful of nickels, some chewing gum that had been through several laundry loads by this point (how it hadn't melted and formed itself to the inside of his pocket until the end of time was just one more mystery), and a paperclip in his back right pocket.

He dropped the meager belongings onto the desk and undid his belt next, pulling it through the loops and adding it to the collection as the guard wrote his name on a large plastic bag and shoveled everything into it as it was given.

Louis parted from his watch with a heavy heart, unhooking the clasp and handing it to the guard, who threw it in the bag and stood to attention.

“That all?” he asked, Louis nodding once more as he pat himself down. The guard sickly smiled and took him into a secluded cubicle of the room where they wouldn't be seen, crossing his arms and biting his lips as he looked Louis up and down. “Personal effects,” he repeated in a breathy tone.

Louis was about to remind him of the atrocious lack of his beloved watch on his wrist, until he realized the much worse implication of personal effects. The guard was talking about his clothes.

 _Gross,_ Louis sneered, obeying the guard before anything worse could happen to him by refusing. He casually took off his shirt and dropped it on the table, crossing his arms over his chest to deflect the guard’s shameless approval.

“Arms out!” the guard ordered, Louis griping internally, but outstretching his arms regardless. “Turn in a slow circle.”

Louis spun as slowly as he could manage, the situation at hand making him want to jump and sprint away. He came to face the guard again and met his eyes, quickly cowering away from them because they had an unnerving gleam in them.

“Keep going,” he said lowly, his gaze dropping down to Louis’ lower half.

Louis held his breath and ripped his socks off like they were Band-Aids, subsequently stripping himself of his jeans, and throwing all three articles onto the table, straightening uncomfortably while the guard’s eyes locked onto his white and bright yellow underwear.

“Those too,” the guard smirked, raising an eyebrow at Louis’ groin to drive his meaning.

Louis couldn't cope with his vote of silence anymore. “Are you _seriou_ —”

“Take them off!” the man roared, sending Louis backward a full metre.

The threat of tears played with the corners of Louis’ eyes, but jail was a terrible place to show weakness in, and he forced himself to tolerate this outrage, hooking his thumbs in the waistline of his underpants and sliding them down his legs, shivering from the breeze as he tossed them atop his pile of clothes.

The guard’s glee was palpable over the full view of Louis’ naked body, and Louis kept his eyes away from him entirely, his breath shaky as he was tortured with exposure. He'd never felt so worthless in his life, appalled he getting creeped on when he couldn’t do jack shit to stop it; when the creep was a supposed officer of the law. His panic was brimming just under the surface of his skin, his rushing blood and thumping heart both resembling a teapot on a hot stove, mere seconds away from emitting an ear-splitting shriek.

“Turn around, face the back,” the guard said, precariously inching forward as he did so.

Louis blanched and turned just to get away from that hideous face, dreading what would follow this.

“Bend over,” the man grunted, the sick sound of a moan tackling itself onto the end of the command.

Louis’ heart was beating like John Bonham himself was playing it, threatening to smash it into tiny bits with powerful and irregular drumming sequences that would blast apart his ventricles. Or maybe it was being played by Moon the Loon, amped up on drugs and taking all his frustrations out on Louis’ most important organ. Either way, it wasn’t pleasant, and Louis bent over like his joints were rusted, easing his way over even though he knew that the languid performance was probably preferable to the pervert behind him.

“Cough,” he heard.

Louis rolled his eyes because they weren’t in the guard’s line of sight, giving his all in a short hack that would hopefully be satisfactory because he certainly didn’t want to do it again.

“Yeah, just like that. Yeah, that’s _good_ ,” the man purred, Louis finally breaking through his submissive exterior to glare daggers at the man over his shoulder; the man who was leaned over to the side and staring straight at his exposed hole—a hole only _Harry_ should ever be allowed to see. But Harry can’t come to the phone right now...Harry’s in a _morgue right now_.

“Is that all?” Louis sassed, still hunched over in this god-awful position while he awaited his next awful fate.

“Yeah. With a pretty boy pussy like that, you’re gonna fit in _just fine_ around here,” the guard lilted, a diabolical pep to his blood-curdling words.

Louis straightened, stark horror strewn across his face because he couldn’t help it. What a terrible terrible concept… If what they all said about pretty boys in jail was true, he was in for some real trouble.

He was chucked his new, muddy-tan-coloured jail uniform, and his dazed arms just barely caught it, the feeling of cloth in his arms propelling him to shake away the imminent threat of nonstop rape to cover himself with haste, that stupid guard still watching every second until there was no more naked skin to pathetically drool over.

These are the worst kind of gay men on the planet. The kind that are straight at home with their wives and their children, and then prey on young boys in their spare time who wouldn’t have anyone to tell—who wouldn’t have anybody to listen to them. Absolutely sickening, and if Louis could wipe all of them off the face of the Earth, he fucking would.

Once he was dressed, the man led him back to his desk—a desk that Louis now noticed the bottle of lotion upon like it was flashing neon colours—and pushed him up to a black phone that was set on the wall.

“You get one phone call,” he informed, all traces of his inappropriate infatuation with Louis gone in a flash.

At first, the knowledge he could call someone lit Louis’ heart up like aurora borealis...that is until he realized there’s nobody he could call. He didn’t know Harlock’s number, his parents would be no help whatsoever, and he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to. He _would_ call Niall in a situation like this, but well...that call wouldn’t be going through to the blonde at the moment.

“I don’t have anyone to call,” Louis admitted with a heavy heart, letting go of his one chance to reach out, and leaving himself completely helpless again.

“Then you’re done here,” the guard quipped, grabbing Louis’ sore upper arm and leading him through another door. “Take him,” he ordered to the guard on the other side, Louis stumbling into the new man’s chest from the force of the push.

The guard caught him and grabbed the clipboard, actually keeping a gentle hand on Louis’ back as he read through the file. “Alright, Mr. Louis. Let’s go,” he said, cuffing his hands in the front in case he tried anything and leading him down the hall.

After a few steps, Louis was finally gifted with the sight of other inmates, long rows of barred cells reminding him in the most vivid way that this was in fact a jail, and he was _in fact_ one of _them_ now. Some paid him no mind as he was taken through the aisle—which he greatly appreciated—some merely stared with dead and bored looks on their faces, some raised their eyebrows in interest, and some let it all out, reaching their arms through the bars and calling out to him with vulgar expletives.

“ _Ooh_ , hey there, Princess!”

“Be my little _bad boy_!”

“Can’t wait to get between _those_ perky cheeks!”

“Baby boy, let me eat your pussy! I’ll make you feel _real_ good.”

Louis gagged and kept his eyes forward, praying that wherever Niall and Tanner were, they weren’t getting the same treatment. The fact that he hadn’t seen them yet made him nervous, but he supposed the system was working hard to keep them apart. Not that they could whisper their way out of here together or anything...but the cops didn’t know that.

The shouts and obscenities grew quieter the more cells he passed, his guard taking him right out of the room and bringing him into a dingy hallway with heavy metal doors along the walls. “Whoa, what are you doing?” Louis squeaked, panicking when they slowed and veered toward one of the doors on the left.

“You’re being placed in solitary until interrogation,” the guard informed, unlocking the door and gently guiding Louis inside.

“Well...wait, when is that?” Louis pressed, non-violently trying to keep himself on the outside of the dark dungeon.

“Tomorrow morning, we’re shorthanded tonight,” the guard responded, exuding far more patience than anyone Louis had encountered so far.

“So I have to stay here?” he whimpered, looking behind him at the meager bed and toilet and biting back more aggressive tears.

The guard sighed and lowered his head, taking Louis’ wrists to unlock the cuffs. “Trust me, kid. Compared to out there, and what could happen at breakfast...you’re safer in here, little guy. Appreciate solitary while you have it,” he soothed, pushing back at Louis’ chest to get him inside the solitary cell.

Louis understood that it was probably in his best interest, but he still hated everything about it. “Okay...do I get to eat?” he asked in a meek voice, the adrenaline over the last two or so hours having emptied everything inside his body.

“I’ll bring you some dinner,” the guard shrugged, beginning to close the heavy door for good until it would open again in an unknown amount of time.

“Wait...thank you,” Louis struggled to say, hugging his middle and staring at the guard’s shiny shoes.

The guard chuckled, but it wasn’t a nasty sound. It was one that resembled sympathy, and Louis looked up to meet his eyes. “Don’t thank me, squirt. I’m just new here,” he stated, shutting the door with a blaring click and jangling the keys as he locked it behind him.

Louis had been plunged into darkness when he’d shut him in, but it didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, his only source of light coming through the tiny square for a window (probably made with bulletproof glass) on the door, spilling in from the hallway’s buzzing fluorescents. He sagged his shoulders and decided he’d sit on the bed because standing was making him woozy, the firmness of it making him miss Harry’s guest room bed.

A few minutes later, a plastic tray was pushed through a little slot in his door, and Louis rushed to see what he’d been given, cringing over what was _maybe_ meatloaf, and cream corn you could definitely break your teeth on. “Is this food?” he asked, the guard actually chuckling on the other side of the door, a small fraction of his face appearing at the window.

“It’s shit, yeah. Sorry,” the guard said as Louis took the tray so he could close the little makeshift slot, promptly leaving before the prisoner could make anymore complaints that he couldn’t fix.

Louis furrowed his brows and stared down at his “food,” poking it with his finger and gagging at the soggy consistency of the alleged meatloaf. Suddenly his appetite dissipated like storm clouds when the sun broke through, and he left the tray on the floor, walking over to the bed and sitting back down like nothing had happened in the last five minutes.

There was no possible way he could sleep, but staying awake wasn’t too appealing an option, either. He had nothing but misery ahead of him if he couldn’t get out of this, but he wasn’t even sure if Harry knew where he was. Would he rightly assume? Where are Niall and Tanner? Are they doing okay? Are the vampires awake yet? Is the sun even down? Did this all happen twenty minutes ago? When it comes down to it, he has absolutely no answers to anything.

“God damnit,” he muttered, finally letting those desperate-to-be-unleashed tears pour down his face, not making a peep of noise beyond the occasional sniff. He laid down hard on his flour sack of a pillow, forcing his eyes closed even if it was a step toward an impossible goal to achieve, and by five minutes, he was asleep.

 

~~~

 

Bob Thompson hummed the tune to _Sounds of Silence_ by Simon  & Garfunkel as he filled out the paperwork for his new cadavers. His night had improved significantly when Ross and his boys brought in _three_ whole corpses, and he’d spent the last two hours routinely studying them after they’d been loaded into his cold chamber drawers to preserve until the autopsy.

They were especially intriguing because none of them had sustained any external wounds—disregarding old scars they all bore on their skin—that could have triggered their deaths, and they were all young and admittedly beautiful, though Bob doesn’t swing that way in the slightest...it was merely easy to see. His current hypothesis was that the use of poison, or maybe an overdose of hard drugs, had done in their bodies’ organ functions, and he couldn’t wait to get inside and see what kinds of things were happening. Either way, a toxicology report would definitely need to be done, and he flipped through his file cabinet to grab the form for that future test.

And that’s when he heard it.

Bob wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn a noise came from the drawers, but of course that was ridiculous. There was zero possibility that he had accidentally shut in a live body—he obviously checks for those kinds of details. Still, though...it really had sounded like something came from one of the drawers.

“I must be tired,” he chuckled, lifting his coffee mug to his lips and taking a long sip, smiling at the picture of his wife and son that lived on his desk to calm himself. He rested the tip of his pen back onto his checklist (forgetting all about the toxicology papers), and then it happened _again_. He flinched this time, this racket proving much louder than the first. Proving it had happened at all. Unmistakable.

He gulped and set his pen down, sliding his palms across his scrubs while he seared his gaze onto the drawers, positive they were the origin because Bob was one of the only people that worked in the morgue at this hour, and this was no work of a random janitor.

Groaning came next.

Bob started to panic, his heart thumping in his chest as his worst nightmares were coming true right where he sat. Zombies. It had to be. No, it couldn’t be. “Come on, Robert. Pull yourself together. This can’t be real, and you _know_ that. _You know that_. You’re a _mortician_ , not a _witch-doctor. It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real_ ,” he chanted, committed to talking himself off the ledge of insane conspiracy theories. This was turning into the most ludicrous night of his life.

All at once like a pipe bomb had gone off, three chamber doors blasted off their hinges and launched across the room, slamming into his medical bookshelf, and crashing down on the floor. Bob shrieked like a girl, and he couldn’t even care about the terrified wet spot of urine that soiled his slacks, because the three bodies he’d acquired tonight then _slid out of their drawers_. They landed in a crouch on the floor and straightened as one, giving Bob the first petrified sight of their somehow alive selves, when they’d indisputably been dead as doornails before.

“Oh God in heaven, please!” Bob begged in terror, his eyes darting to the ceiling as though he could see his Lord and Savior just above the speckled tiles. “Spare me!”

“Would you _shut up_ , please?” the curly-haired zombie griped, holding his hands over his ears in response to Bob’s prayers.

“Where the fuck are we?” the freckled boy asked the first one, all three of them assessing their naked status and turning their accusatory glares onto poor Bob.

“What happened to us?” the ethnic boy demanded, taking one single step toward the staggered and petrified mortician.

Bob signed off on reality at that point, keeling over and landing in a heap on the floor as his shocked body dragged him into sleep, likely to be inaccessible for the next four hours or so.

Zayn observed the room and cursed loudly, Harry and Martin spinning to him for answers. “We’re in a fucking morgue,” he growled, ripping the tag off his toe and causing the other two to notice and remove theirs as well.

“Why?” Martin squeaked, his skin crawling when he realized they’d narrowly escaped getting their organs poked at in their sleep.

“Shit…” Harry gritted, “...where the fuck are they?” he asked rhetorically, none of the vampires having any clue as to where their humans had ended up.  

“If we’re in a morgue, that means they were stopped by the police,” Zayn theorized with a great deal of anxiety behind his voice. “Which means...guys, they’re almost definitely in jail right now.”

“Fuck!” Harry roared, kicking the metal table they would have been dissected on with intense force, sending it right into the shattered bookcase as well. “We gotta call Harlock. We’re out of our fucking depth here,” he grumbled, turning around to walk out of the room and search for a phone.

“Uhh, Harry?” Martin interjected.

Harry whipped around and snapped out a harsh, “What!”

“We’re completely naked?” Martin reasoned, his hands motioning down his pasty body.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said distractedly, all three vampires sniffing out their clothes in the small room.

Their noses took them to a set of lockers on the opposing wall, breaking through the metal doors to retrieve their clothes, tearing the evidence bags apart to free them. They dressed quickly, looking each other over and then heading for the door.

They slapped the doors open and swept down the long, dark hallway, finally finding a phone not too far down the way and sighing with relief. Harry took the responsibility and lifted the hand hold phone from its base, dialing the number for Harlock that had been long since imprinted onto his memory, his lips pursing with impatient aggravation as it gradually rang.

Martin and Zayn snapped to attention and listened in as Harlock picked up, all three of them simultaneously discovering that Tanner had called Harlock an hour ago from a jail in Northern California, explaining to him that they’d been caught at the border and were due for court in a few day’s time, additionally reciting the details Tanner had given him on where it was and how to get there. Harlock also mentioned that Jenner was busy preparing himself so they could leave for an airport and get to California by daybreak, and they all agreed to meet up in South Lake Tahoe after Harry’s group had gotten their humans back.

Harry forced out his goodbye’s and hung up the phone, fighting the urge to break it into a million pieces as his mind turned darker by the moment. Louis, his perfect, beautiful Louis, rotting away in a cell for a preposterous “murder” he didn’t commit. It was enough to bring out the worst side of Harry there is. It was enough to bring out Hadrian.

“Come on. We’ve got lovers to save and jail guards to eat,” he snarled with a scary passion to behold, taking off at his full speed as his understanding friends followed close after him. _Hang on, Lou. Wait for your monster._

 

~~~

 

Louis woke up to the sound of his cage door opening, and he slowly opened his eyes, lazily turning over from being huddled against the wall to greet the pervy guard that had probably snuck in for a late-night creep session.

What he didn’t expect was Harry. His breath cut off and he sat up on his knees, _so close_ to weeping for joy and running into his arms when he finally grasped that it wasn’t Harry in his cell.

It was Auron.

He acted immediately, flying off the mattress and tripping over his feet as he ran around the cell like a rat in a maze, only this maze had no turns and corners. It was an open fishbowl; and Auron had the net.

Auron cackled and watched the frail human flit around, lightly pushing him back when he made a break for the open door, and finally making his move when Alex had helpfully backed himself into a corner. He rushed forward and closed him in where he had already trapped himself, staring into those eerily familiar eyes and chuckling low in his throat. “Hiya, Lexy,” he lilted cheerfully.

“Get the fuck off of me, you bastard,” Louis roared, pushing back to no avail and freezing when Auron bared his fangs and hissed at him in clear warning.

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat your captor,” Auron chastised, bringing a finger up and poking Alex in the forehead. “Don’t wanna test people like me.”

“You’re no _person_. How did you even find me?” Louis demanded, his confidence coming from Alexander’s frantic assistance.

“My people in Norcal discovered a particularly odd news story, and when I heard the descriptions, I knew it was you. This is the closest jail you would have been taken to from the border, and look! Here you are. Writhing in distress like a worm under a boot,” he sneered, stepping even closer and pressing his chest right up against Alexander’s. “How are you human again?” he asked sternly, not fucking around this time. He’d come for answers...and maybe a little bit extra.

“Like I would tell you,” Louis and Alex gritted together, Louis gathering the snot from his sinuses into his throat to spit in Auron’s face. 

Auron caught the intention and held his hand over Alex’s mouth, giving the human no other choice but to swallow it all back down in disappointment. “See, _I_ thought we could play nice, just like old times. But if you’re going to be difficult, then so will I,” he growled, licking a broad stripe up Alex’s neck and letting him grasp the position he was in.

Louis thrashed against the hands that held him, shooting his knees up to try and do some measure of damage, but his attempts were hopeless, and both of them knew that. “Please! Let me go. Don’t do this,” he sobbed, his cries traveling far beyond the entrance of the door, his last hope in the form of a guard hearing the pleas and rushing to his defense, but any human would get chopped down if they interrupted. He was alone in this fight.

“Oh please,” Auron scoffed, pressing a hand against Alex’s mouth again to shut him up. “Even if I hadn’t killed the guard for his keys, do you think it would have made one bit of difference?” he asked pointedly.

He was only confirming Louis’ every thought, but his drive to fight back did not waver. Auron eventually had enough of it and closed a thin hand around his neck, his fangs on full display as he grinned at Alex’s feeble attempts to scratch at his arm. “Are you gonna be good for me?” he challenged maliciously, tightening his grip just to show he could snap his neck if he wanted to.

Alex slightly nodded out of defeat, and Auron relented, returning the strangling hand to Alex’s soft side and dramatically sighing as he admired the human before him. “Harry just doesn’t know how to preserve a good thing, and that’s his fault. My only fault was not killing you sooner, but I think it turned out rather nicely in the end, don’t you?” he taunted.

Louis was actually confused, because he hadn’t unlocked all the mysteries over Alexander’s death yet, but Alexander himself seemed to remember. “You think you’re such a threat,” he jeered, fisting Auron’s shirt and pulling the cloth into his own chest. “But without your hundreds of turned, you’re nothing. We both know if you and Hadrian were in an arena, you would be destroyed in a passing moment.”

“Hadrian’s not _here_ , is he? And you’re a _human_ , aren’t you?” Auron growled, grabbing locks of Alex’s fluffy hair and forcing his head back to bare his neck. “Do you understand what all of this means? Or are you just as stupid as you always were?” he seethed, his extended fangs glinting as he licked his lips in preparation.

Louis stared down his limited gaze at Harry’s corrupt twin, his blood rushing for the surface of his skin as he grew hypnotized by the sharp fangs that were _one step away_ from being Harry’s. Transfixed by the imminent threat of Auron’s powerful saliva entering his bloodstream—twin endorphins that shared nearly every speck of Harry’s DNA—all of the beautiful ecstasy hidden just beyond the barrier of a bite; a bite Louis didn’t truly want, but one his untrustworthy body was non-stop screeching for. Once an addict...

“I know you want me,” Auron purred seductively, using his strongest lure to force the human Alex into submission. “And...I know you’ve _always_ wanted me.”

“Bullshit,” Louis whispered hotly, fighting the tempting lure with everything he had.

“Is it?” Auron smirked, leaning in to sniff at Alexander’s human blood, pulling away with a look of rabid anticipation. “Arousal is easy to smell,” he breathed back onto the skin of Alexander’s neck, nuzzling the goosebumps that followed his touch. “This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed it coming from you...just for me,” he moaned, rolling his hips into Alex’s and smiling when the human gasped at the sensation.

“Stop it,” Louis begged, the biggest wave of shame crashing over him as he realized Auron wasn’t entirely wrong. He _did_ want him. Auron was the entire world right now. Undeniable. Perfect. He wanted every single inch of him, and then he knew he’d want more. The longer he stared into Auron’s glowing eyes, the stronger his desire became. Louis horrifically realized from somewhere in his intact mind that _this_ is what a vampire lure _truly_ is, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t even want to fight it. He could never face Harry again after this. He wasn’t worthy of love. All he deserved was ridicule and hatred. “Damn you,” he gritted with fervor as he broke through the compulsion, using the last of his energy for one more escape attempt.

“You wanna know something?” Auron asked, holding him back from the pointless scramble to get away and establishing eye contact again, reaffirming his control over the human with more strength than he’d needed to use in a _very_ long time.

Auron’s lure had its amazing claws hooked so far into Louis that he could have been the twin’s puppet, and he found himself nodding with fascination sparkling in his eyes. “What?” he rasped, stopping all his fight and melting into Auron’s intoxicating embrace instead.

Auron bit his bottom lip as he grinned, lifting Alex’s chin and nearly touching their lips together before veering down into the crook of his neck as he decided on his bite spot. “I’ve always wanted you too.”

Louis—at the rock bottom of his clarity—just _barely_ managed to whimper out a hopeless “No” before the foreignly familiar teeth sank into his neck, the roughness of it scaring him before the pleasure took over and obliterated everything that wasn’t ethereal bliss. Auron had bitten into him uncommonly hard, and he sliced his teeth downward a fraction, in the act of leaving the biggest vampire scar Louis would ever bear for the rest of his life. However, the more intense the pain, the more delicious the pleasure, and _oh_ was it spectacular.

Louis’ sobs followed every moan he weakly let slip out, crying in self-hatred as he grabbed at Auron’s luxurious hair and rutted his erection on the vampire’s thigh. Auron had lifted his lure the moment he’d bitten him, but now Louis was being controlled by his endorphins instead, _able_ to fight back, but not finding the strength to. He lost all train of logical thought as his enemy kept his addictive intake going, Louis’ eyesight blurring as the pleasure of Auron became almost too much to handle, surpassing anything he’d ever felt before, his double-crossing body of betrayal climaxing over and over and over again.

Auron groaned against the human’s neck and his hands traveled down to his expectedly plump ass, assisting the mindless movements of his hips and sliding his hands down his thighs and up the back of Alex’s shirt to claw at his back. The victorious twin backed away from the wall and reached up to hold the back of Alex’s drooping head, finally pulling out from his brutal marks when the human was officially going to die soon if he didn’t. Auron didn’t want Alex to die again—not _this_ soon. This was far too much fun.

“Now Hadrian will _always_ know that he let this happen. That I got to you. Marred your skin. Pleasured you,” he moaned as Alex drunkenly sagged in his arms, lifting the human up like a bride and carrying him to the bed, where he then laid him down with the softest of gestures. He took a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around Alex’s neck to help cease the excessive bleeding, petting his soft hair as the human pathetically gasped for breath within his all-consuming high and dangerously severe anemia.

“Curse you,” Louis valiantly croaked, his every sense muddled under fifty feet of water, his limbs heavy as lead, his grip on life slipping away with the blood that ebbed out of his forcibly taken neck—taken by an ancient vampire he’d _never_ expected to claim it.

“I cannot wait to see you again, Lexy. You drive me _wild._ Always have,” Auron murmured, leaning down and stealing a rugged kiss on the full lips of his brother’s lover because the human couldn’t fight back if he tried, and Auron had never gotten the chance to feel those lips with his own before he’d killed their owner.

Louis feebly protested, but he couldn’t move a muscle, and a pinch of Auron’s unrefusable lure came back to make him accept and return the kiss, the compulsion quickly falling away as Auron delivered his parting words to Louis, who was fading to nothing in his death-like stupor.

“Your blood is unfathomably delicious, my sweet and sour temptress. You may think it’s over now, but that feeding came with a price to you,” he warned, softly speaking his next words directly into Louis’ attentive ear. “Now there’s nowhere in the world you can _ever_ hide from me. You’re _mine_. The siren of your blood will always scream out for _my_ superior fangs, and I’ll be there every time,” he crooned with a last fleeting kiss to Louis’ cheek, walking to the door as he chuckled out an amused, “Good luck _trying_ to hide though, I know you will.”  

And with that, he was gone. The door closed to erase any proof of his entry, except for the overload of hormones buzzing through Louis’ pleasure center, and a cloth around his neck that concealed the memory of his piercing fangs.

Louis couldn’t survive this. This wracking _guilt_ eating him up from the inside out. He couldn’t possibly be asked to forgive himself for giving in to the appeal of Harry’s twin brother. Auron had just assassinated his relationship with Harry, and Louis would never be able to come back from the horrid shame hanging over his head. The last thought he registered before succumbing to sleep was the simple sight of Harry’s beautiful face, but at the very last second, right before Louis lost his consciousness, life, or maybe his entire existence, it shifted to the smirking vision of Auron’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guilty pleasure Auron lovers...You're welcome.


	12. Doctor Zayn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some cooldown after that fucking catastrophe lmao. Hope you guys were all safe for paddy's day and whatnot. I had an amazing time. You'll never believe, but I ended up in a room that was soooo much like Harlock's party room !!! It was pure 70's, just everything was so similar. big old tv, a pool table, wood paneled walls and a bar. I was freaking out. I got a video of it, but idk how to possibly show you lmao. just take my word for it. Anyway, here's Wonderwall

Zayn, Harry, and Martin all flew over the California border at the same exact same moment, the auditory map Harlock had given over the phone echoing in their minds. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long because Harry was two seconds from tearing the entire planet apart to find his innocent Louis.

The trio raced through the forests of Northern California like arrows from a crossbow, sticking close to the road to keep track of where they were. Harlock had spouted a few street names that Tanner had paid close attention to while passing, but the vampires had faith that once they were ten miles out, they'd be able to smell them.

And like a message from the Gods, Harry got his wish. The familiar trace of Louis’ scent howled out for him, but it didn't take long for Harry to discover it was riddled with violence. There was no doubt that Louis’ blood, a _lot_ of it, had been spilt this night, and he roared into the night air as he hastened his already grueling pace.

“Is that Louis?” Martin asked against the blaring whoosh of wind their speedy bodies were cutting through.

Harry detected another horrifying hint and slid to a complete stop, Martin and Zayn catching on and halting a few metres ahead of him.

“Harry?” Zayn asked, his best friend’s frame trembling with anger as his senses studied something that theirs couldn't discern at their younger ages.

“Auron was with him,” he growled deep in his throat, tormenting himself mad with the undeniable knowledge that Auron had caused Louis harm.

Martin and Zayn shared a horrified look and turned their eyes back to Harry, awaiting the word to take off and—

Harry blazed by them so fast he was practically invisible even to their eyes, the pair beating their feet onto the ground just to try and keep up with him. They said nothing and offered no words of pointless comfort as Harry led the way directly to the jail, his nose a flawless compass to guide them.

It only took a few more tense minutes for them to break through the conglomerate of forest trees, but when they did, they were finally met with the sight of their destination. They leapt over the fences that boxed it in and rushed to the front entrance, their path cleared when Harry propelled himself through the thick glass of the doors.

Once inside, the scent of all of their humans was overwhelming, and they could easily tell that Louis’ was entirely too strong in comparison. A large group of stunned human police workers jolted and honed in on the intruders, their hands instinctively reaching for the guns in their hip holsters.

“Knock them all out,” Harry ordered. He was definitely contradicting his former statement to ‘eat the guards,’ but in truth, he would feel like a monster killing a bunch of humans who had only been doing their jobs.

The three vampires zipped around the room and punched all the cops asleep, not a single one of them getting enough time to fire a weapon at them. Once the whole room was incapacitated, Harry broke through the next door in the corner of the room, smacking the guard that inhabited it unconscious and carrying onward.

They rushed through another door, and they all noticed their humans’ clothing was definitely in this one, but they wouldn't stop for something like that yet. They could come back later. This next door opened up to a wide passage with cells of prisoners lining the whole way down, but the immortals spared them no glances because they knew their lovers were not among them.

They knocked three more guards out and barreled their way into the final stop of the rescue mission, Zayn and Martin sprinting forward and veering off in opposing directions from the fork at the end of the hall, Harry slowing down and facing Louis’ door on the left side of his current location.

The scent of his brother’s invasion and Louis’ taken blood was reaping his sanity, and he almost doubted he could even face Louis after the attack he'd failed to protect him from. He stood with his hand wrapped around the steel handle, a barrage of self-hating thoughts finding a home in his mind.

All because he'd slept for longer than he should have, the humans had been incarcerated, and Louis had been assaulted. His tiny lapse of judgment had cost them all their freedom, and the vampires had nearly been surgically gutted from the mistake as well.

His fierce love for Louis broke through his dread of resentment, because no matter what Louis thought of him now, Harry was going to get him out of this prison, and that was final. He gently pulled on the door to split its locking mechanisms apart, figuring that Louis probably wouldn’t be able to stomach another sudden break-in.

The locks effortlessly snapped in half, and Harry swung the door open, crossing the threshold and zeroing in on Louis, instantly stumbling into the wall at the devastating sight before him.

 

~~~

 

Louis had come to when the door had loudly opened, but he had no will to face another attack. As long as this one finished him off, he would greet them with gratitude. It was only when he heard the wracking sob irrefutably made by _Harry_ that he opened his heavy eyes, rolling his head to the side to catch sight of him.

The simple act of looking over irritated the bite on his pulsing neck under its cloth, the haunting memory of Auron and his heavenly fangs sparking a wave of pleasure to roll through his nervous system. The shame of that fleeting second sliced him like a knife, and he met Harry’s sob with one of his own, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the hurt in Harry’s.

Harry apparently wasn't going to disown him quite yet, and Louis felt the dip of the bed under Harry’s weight as he sat beside him, cringing when the immortal’s thumb ran over the cloth around his neck.

“What did he do to you?” Harry whispered in obvious anguish, a soothing hand petting Louis’ hair like he deserved it. Like he _wasn't_ a cheating monster.

Louis sniffed weakly and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, his resolve to be abandoned breaking his heart, but he knew he had to take this step. He deserved nothing less than a broken heart. And he'd get it soon. “He came in…” he began, sniffing again and letting the tears fall down his cheeks onto the mattress.

Harry tried to wipe the tears from Louis’ face, but Louis used all of his energy to valiantly push his hand away. The vampire wanted to protest, but he stilled his hand and let it fall to his own lap, giving Louis all the time in the world to recount the story.

“I thought he was you,” Louis chuckled without a trace of humour, his empty smile hurting his face to make. “Then I knew he wasn't. I tried to run…”

“Harry, we need to leave,” Zayn suddenly said from the door, Niall and Tanner whimpering at their first view of Louis. They'd both heard his shouts and screams even from their distance, but they’d had no clue what was happening, and they couldn't escape their cells. Finally getting informed by their vampires what had been done to Louis was the rotten cherry on the shit sundae.

“No,” Harry shot down, blocking Louis with his body as he addressed their group. “Martin, you take the humans and find the van in police holding, I know it's around here somewhere. Put all our stuff into another vehicle and steal every set of keys here until you find the right one. And I don't care if it's a fucking two seater, we need a car. Zayn, go find a hospital and get two 500ccs bags of A-pos with an IV and come back as fast as you can. _Now_. Go,” he commanded.  

Zayn wanted to fight the notion of leaving them there for _any_ period of time, but Harry would not be persuaded otherwise, and this inarguably needed to be done, so with a short sigh, he relented. “Alright, guys. Let's go,” he said, the group jogging down the hall to carry out their missions.

Harry turned back to Louis and urged him to continue with his eyes, but Louis was less willing now than ever. Harry still cared so much for him, when he _really_ shouldn't, but sue him for wanting to keep it that way. Selfish, huh? “He trapped me in that corner,” he informed, the tiny lifting of his index finger pointing out which corner he was referring to. “Said a bunch of scary shit, got really close to me and...and then he...he—” He couldn't do it. The world could end unless he said it, but he'd let it end in flames and disintegrate into space. He couldn't say this. Not out loud.

Harry began to understand what was propelling Louis to shy away from him, and though it _did_ hurt him, Auron’s attack wasn't Louis’ fault, and he couldn't bear to watch his human blame himself for it. “Louis, I hope you're not afraid to tell me because you think I don't already know...your orgasms are thick in the air,” he said as calmly as he could, resting a careful hand on Louis’ nearest forearm.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a choked sob, trying to unclench his teeth to make the worst confession of his life, regretting it completely the moment he did. “I betrayed you.”

“Oh, Louis,” Harry breathed, leaning down to kiss Louis’ forehead that was ridged with torment. “No, you didn't. You really didn't. Baby, Auron is my brother. Even worse, he's my _twin_ brother. Not only does that mean he's a powerful Elder...it also means his endorphins are nearly identical to mine. It's not weakness to admit you couldn't deny him, it's my fault that you're addicted to our DNA in the first place. I'm just glad you're okay,” he sighed, his words only spurring Louis to cry harder.

“I'm not okay!” Louis wailed, his shout piercing Harry’s ear drums. “I'll never be okay! I feel fucking horrible. He used this ridiculous lure on me at first, but he dropped it when he—” He dragged his hand up to his neck to feel around the bite, trembling when he pushed down onto the cloth. “—And I still didn't stop him.”

“Louis, please,” Harry begged, removing Louis’ hand from his neck and holding it within his own. “You couldn't have stopped him. He probably bit you as brutally as he could, thereby drinking as fast as he could as well. I _know_ what that roughness does to a human. It probably felt better than anything I've ever given you…” he admitted with great difficulty, containing all of his anger inside his stomach with a level of success that even he was impressed with.  

Louis screeched as his crying jumped to a new level, his heart and soul breaking in little pieces that spilled from his eyes. It _had_ felt better. It had felt like nothing he'd ever imagined in his wildest dreams. It had changed his world forever. Nothing compared. To hate Auron with the fiercest passion in all of history and still want him so desperately was destroying him. Ripping him apart into bloody shreds like he'd been shoved in a blender of shame and despair.

“Let me see it,” Harry requested, the meaning of what he wanted to see ringing clear without the need to say it. When Louis uttered no response of cooperation, Harry slightly raised the stakes. “Trust me, you do _not_ want to encounter my compulsion too.”

“No, don't!” Louis yelped in fear, his hand flying up to cover the bite from Harry’s prying eyes. That's when he finally understood just how damaging Auron’s hold over him had become. His reaction had come so suddenly that he hadn't had the time to realize what it meant, and when he did, he was absolutely disgusted. Auron had broken him.

Harry had asked to see the mark, and Louis now knew he hadn't refused out of guilt...he'd refused to protect it.

His instincts had told him the bite was a private memory between Auron and himself, and his consequent, horrendously possessive behavior had adhered without question. That knowledge crushed him for the last damn time, burning him like molten lava, and he let his hand fall away in resignation, opening himself up to be studied like a lab experiment.

Harry blinked in surprise, but he knew exactly what had just happened. Fang whores were notorious for guarding fresh bites from outside vampires until they healed, but Harry had _never_ expected to see that type of behavior from _Louis_. He discarded every emotion he had like the true Roman he was while he gently untied the cloth that reeked strongly of Auron, lifting it away from Louis’ neck and exposing the savage wound that decorated his claimed skin.

Louis’ face was just as blank while he watched Harry scrutinize his brother’s bite, the sharp intake of breath through Harry’s teeth making him cringe with remorse.

“Shit, he really got you,” Harry noted with forced neutrality, staring down at the identical lacerations that Auron’s fangs had cut into Louis’ flesh mid-bite. The angry wound was nothing but a message to Harry that Auron had etched with a terrible consequence to the middleman. It plainly read “Fuck you” in long red letters, and Harry loathed to admit that which made himself laughably inferior: Auron had won this round. Undoubtedly so. He covered the mark back up and re-tied the intended knot in the fabric, angling himself away from Louis while he dealt with and worked to suppress his bubbling fury.

“I'm so sorry,” Louis mourned, his feeble voice barely above the hush of a pained whisper.

Harry hung his head and shook it side to side, his upcoming tears in a heated match with his commitment to remain calm. “Don't be,” he murmured, a short exhale blowing from his nostrils as his head bobbed with the emotionless laugh. “Don't be sorry,” he repeated, looking over at Louis through a curtain of his own hair, raking it back with a shaking hand so he would be seen. “How do you feel about him?” he asked reluctantly, his suspicion that Auron had done major damage to Louis’ psyche taking precedence over his desire for self-preservation.

“My heart belongs to you, Hadrian,” Alexander pushed through to declare, taking over for the thwarted and shattered Louis.

“I know that, Alex,” Harry assured, noticing the minor shift of his lover’s mind like it was spelled out in the air. “But your body…?” he challenged solemnly, his nerves constricting as he awaited the blast of merciless truth.

Neither Louis nor Alexander seemed to want to address that, and that spoke to Harry louder than a voiced confession would have. He dipped down to press a kiss against their lips, transferring all of his endless love and forgiveness into the tender touch. “Zayn’s back,” he said as he pulled away, scooping his arms under his baby’s frail body and holding him close against his chest. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Louis didn’t fight it—like he even could if he’d tried—and Harry’s arms only got tighter as he walked him down the hall, both mindful of the straggler guards the vampire might have missed somewhere along the way.

All the movement had unfortunately opened Louis’ raw wound back up with a vengeance, and Auron’s meager cloth did little to help the fresh patch of red that spread outward like a gruesome ripple in the pond of barbarity. Harry’s eyes shot downward when the scent entered his sinuses, his eyebrows coming together with worry. “Just hold on, Lou,” he murmured, helpless against the lines of blood that began to escape the cloth entirely and drip to the floor.

Louis weakly nodded and focused his mind on staying awake, the little streams of his blood tickling the side and back of his neck. He was soon taken into the pervert’s room where he’d stripped down into nothing, and his responding anxiety spiked his heart rate for a split second.

Harry noticed the oddity at once and he stared down at Louis in puzzlement. “What is it? Why are you suddenly nervous?” he asked, sniffing at him to see if there was anything obviously wrong with his body— _besides_ the actively bleeding injury, that is.

“That guard,” Louis spat with impressive energy, motioning a single finger to the asshole who had been knocked out by one of the three vampires in passing.

“What about him?” Harry asked in a hard tone, eyes searing down upon the sprawled out human at his feet.

“He did really creepy shit to me when I was naked,” Louis slurred, his weakness catching up to him as he groaned in discomfort.

Harry didn't ask for or need an explanation to that statement. He gingerly hiked Louis up in his arms so he wouldn’t be too jostled, and stepped to the side of the guard’s head, raising a knee in the air.

Louis hid in Harry’s neck when the vampire stomped his foot down, the sickening crunch and squish of a skull making him flinch. He wasn't scared per se, he just had a low tolerance for violence at the moment. All in all, he was glad Harry did it, and he kissed his neck to give thanks.  

“I have brain on my shoe,” Harry whined in distaste, resuming his unperturbed stride and passing through a room with a camera, down another hall, and out to the final door, kicking it open and jogging to the van Martin had acquired.

Louis had to chuckle at their new wheels. It was a dark brown transport van with no windows in the back, and two large seats in the front, looking to be separated by a space in which you could walk into the back from either seat. It reminded him of a tour bus for a hopeful and painfully broke rock band, and he could totally see it being filled with illegal drugs, musical instruments, and bunk beds.

That was the last thought he had for quite some time.

Niall fiercely pointed toward the back when he caught sight of them rushing over, and Harry veered to the back, the two doors flinging open via Martin and Tanner. Harry leapt inside and lowered into a seated position, then Zayn was off, peeling out of the jail parking lot before Martin had even finished closing the doors.

“Are you fucking okay?” Niall demanded as he whipped the curtain aside that separated the fronts seats from the back area.

Louis didn’t respond at all, and Harry’s eyes flew down to him, wondering how he hadn’t noticed right away that the human’s weight had sagged in his arms and he’d lost consciousness. “Louis?” he called, cradling him against his chest while he caressed his peaked and colourless face, his blood having soaked the cloth enough to dye the whole thing red. “Zayn, I need you!” he shouted as he laid Louis down on the floor of the van, his compromised heartbeat getting weaker by the second.

“Niall, drive! Get on the I-5,” Zayn snapped, safe to leave the driving to Niall now that he’d gotten out of the parking lot without any interruptions or blockades. “Tanner, be his map!” he added, the butler’s human carefully stepping around the emergency at his feet to get in the passenger seat and consult the maps.

Zayn slid on his knees and ripped the top off the cooler box that held the medical supplies he’d heisted from Fairchild Medical Center on Bruce Street off the I-5. He handed one of the compressed blood bags to Harry and forcibly raised his arm so the Roman was holding it far above Louis’ horizontal form. “Keep it up,” he instructed, connecting tubes and slapping nitrile medical gloves on his hands to unpackage the needle and keep it clean. 

“It’s like you’re an actual doctor,” Harry noted offhandedly, watching everything Zayn was professionally doing with rapt attention. “Don’t you just work in the basement? You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I deal with hazardous chemicals and substances all the time, I know how to handle them. And putting an IV in someone is something all hospital workers know how to do in case of emergency,” he informed, looking over his shoulder to Martin. “Frenchie, wrap this rubber strip around Louis’ left arm, about four inches above his elbow. Make it taught,” he said, the butler hurrying to see it through.

Martin pulled the ends of the rubber band after making a single knot, backing away as Zayn handed a little paper square to Harry’s confused hand. “Hold that,” he said, ripping the corner off and pulling out the disinfectant wipe that was inside, unfolding it with a few flaps of his wrist and scrubbing it against Louis’ inner elbow. He then tossed it onto the upside-down lid of the cooler and took a deep breath, bending down to hold his ear over Louis’ arm, his gaze shifting around at the interior of the van as he concentrated.  

His vampire senses and omniscient knowledge of the bloodstream in a human was a huge advantage for this situation; he only needed to listen to the flow to suss out the best vein. When he was completely sure, he raised back up and held the needle like a shank, gently guiding it through Louis’ skin and into the vein he’d chosen. He flipped a little switch on the plastic tube where the two had been connected to form one, and the blood in the bag began to flow down and slide through the line, well on its way to Louis’ starved body.

Zayn sighed and reached into the cooler to grab the roll of thick masking tape he’d packed, tearing off a strip and patting it down above the embedded needle to keep it in place, adding another strip just because they were admittedly in a rather bumpy car ride.

“Thank you,” Harry humbly murmured to Zayn, his face morbidly upset but clearly thankful.

Zayn’s eyes flicked to the troubled Roman, and he gave a subtle smile as he dressed Louis’ neck with fresh bandages, packing all the medical trash into the cooler beside the second bag and slapping the top back down. “Niall, how are we doing up there?” he called, sitting on the balls of his feet in a deep crouch as he rested his elbows on his knees, rolling his gloves off at the wrists.

“On I-5 now,” Niall replied, his heart drowning in worry as Louis lay on the floor like a vegetable, trapped in a harrowing near-death experience. He trusted Zayn’s medical prowess, but sometimes life doesn’t listen.

In that short span of time, Harry’s anger swirled down onto the bloodied cloth by Louis’ splayed hair, and he snatched it into a shaking fist, turning his face to address Tanner. “Roll down your window.”

Tanner had suspected that had been meant for him, and he could never refuse a demand like that. His arm twitched down to the crank, his eyes widening when he turned around and saw what Harry had in his outstretched hand ready pass to him. “That’s a lot of blood,” he gulped, the cloth practically still dripping with the thick substance.

“What the—” Zayn gasped, his distracted mind finally putting two and two together. “Harry, we’re not throwing that out the fucking window, give it to me,” he ordered, Harry turning his eyes of fury on Zayn, Tanner freezing in place and meeting Martin’s comforting gaze because it was the only soothing thing in this world right now.

“Why should I have to keep it?” Harry grumbled, the memory of who had wrapped it around Louis’ neck blasting away every sense of reason within him.

“Because vampires could taste his blood and start tracking him. We’re already in so much danger of that, do you want to add someone else to the chase because of your idiocy?” Zayn begged, yanking the rag out of Harry’s grasp whether he agreed or not. “Keep your bag hand steady, by the way. Louis’ not in good shape right now for you to be moving around like a dunce.”

Niall choked and gave a short glance backward, his tears coming out like two waterfalls on his face. “Is Louis going to die?” he gritted.

“He’s gonna be okay, Niall,” Zayn eased, practically blinded by the gears of doubt pirouetting above the blonde’s head.

“How do you know?” Niall whimpered, Tanner biting his nails and staring between every single creature in the van.

“Because even if he won’t be fine, I’ll turn him,” Harry answered, huffing into his knuckles after he’d grudgingly shoved the cloth in his pocket. “Drastic option, but that’s what I would have done had it come to it. However, his heart is still pumping blood, even at a labored speed, and that’s a good sign,” he informed without the need for medical experience, his hand smoothing Louis’ matted hair as he kept a close eye on him.

“Just keep driving, Niall. I’ll stay back here and watch his progress,” Zayn said, plopping down on his butt and lowering his ear back to Louis’ bloodflow.

Niall slowly backed off the edge of hysteria to know Dr. Zayn wouldn’t leave his post, but he dare say he was quite tired of people telling him to “keep driving.” The amount of times he’d heard that lately was derailing his tolerance. “Thanks, babe,” he said sincerely, taking a deep breath and dedicating himself to the duty of driving on the highway.

They drove a good chunk of time without much change in Louis’ condition, but when roughly forty minutes had passed, the first bag was emptied, and Zayn promptly switched it out, unhooking the tube from the first and clicking it in to the fresh one. He handed the full bag back to Harry to elevate, and the group resumed their weighted game of patience.

“How long until we get to Tahoe?” Harry asked the front seat humans, Tanner sticking his nose into the map as he lit the flashlight.

“Well...basically four and a half hours. I think,” he guessed, shooting an apologetic look to the back of the van.

“Thanks, baby,” Martin said, showering him with support because they were all stressed and could use some encouragement.

“I can’t believe I let this happen…” Harry mourned, staring down at the enervated status of his lover with misty eyes.

“Hey!” Zayn snapped, waving his hand in Harry’s face to get his focus. “This wasn’t you, Harry. It was either all of our faults, or none of them, but this cannot be put on a single one of us alone,” he passionately declared, foreseeing the dangerous road Harry would wander should be burden himself with all the accountability.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Zayn, but we did _not_ have to sleep. That was my idea. Whether sleeping too long is accredited to all of us or not, I decided it,” he argued, fisting his hair and heavily sighing to the floor.

“And what about the sleet on the road?” Zayn challenged. “Was that your idea too?”

“We could have just run…”

“No? Not with all our stuff and humans to carry,” Zayn pointed out.

“Then we shouldn't have left period! We should have just stayed another night and day at the motel!” Harry shouted.

Zayn angrily shushed him and jabbed a finger in Louis’ direction, the Roman adhering in an instant and shutting up. “Look, what happened to our humans was terrible. And we all feel like shit over it. But we need to think about _now_ , really take it in. We got them back. Louis is here, he’s alive, and he’s going to be okay.”

Harry wanted to agree more than anything, but he couldn’t. He knew how serious and permanent the effects of this event would turn out to be. “You don’t know how damaging this was for Louis,” he snarled, his anger scrambling away from the area wherein he could control it.

“Harry? Harry. You need to calm down,” Zayn urged, his eyes darting to Martin and the backs of the humans heads who were pointedly not looking at the fuming Elder. “You look like you’re about to go on a rampage, and we cannot afford that right now—”

Harry cut him off by darting down and gripping his unsuspecting throat, yanking him up to his feet. He reeled him in close to growl threats into his face, but Zayn beat him to it.

“Aelius...Hadrianus...” Zayn addressed with perfect enunciation and a dangerously austere expression, throwing the Roman off track because he likely hadn’t ever expected to hear that name used by him of all people. “Give...me...the blood bag...now,” he demanded with a seethingly cutting tone, waiting until the bag was safe in his steady hand to let his rage out. “Do you have any fucking idea how dangerous this process is for Louis right now? Can you _understand_ how susceptible to sepsis he is? It’s shifty enough doing a blood transfusion in a moving fucking vehicle, and you’re going to add jerky arm movements, _twice_ , are you fucking kidding me, you could—that would kill him!” he scolded incredulously with the utmost disapproval in Harry’s rash actions.  

Harry was admittedly mortified with himself. If he didn’t get out somewhere and release this growing sea of aggression, he would inevitably only continue to make more deprecating decisions. “Shit,” he cursed, stepping far away from Louis and crowding himself in the corner of the van, shoving Martin out of the way to have room to be alone.

Zayn glared after him and eventually let out a short huff, crouching to inspect Louis’ IV and make sure nothing had been dislodged or otherwise agitated. The human seemed in good enough condition all things considered, so Zayn snapped his fingers at Martin to take the job of bag-holding.

The drive stretched on for a tense bundle of hours, not many words exchanged in respectful observance of Louis’ physical state, and Harry’s emotional one. Zayn studied the gradually strengthening Louis, Martin and Tanner stole subtle glances and smiles with one another in lieu of the conversations they wanted to have, and when Niall started humming this time, no one told him to stop.

 

\---

 

~~~

 

Louis woke up with a foreign feeling in his body, wondering if he was drunk or high, or anything else in between. The purring thrum of an engine brought him into full awareness, and he opened his blurry eyes to discover he was in the back of a van, he only hoped it was the same van Harry had carried him to.

“Louis?” Zayn’s professional voice addressed, coming into hovering view and leaning down to look at his eyes. “Follow my finger,” he instructed, moving his ringed index finger across Louis’ line of sight, watching how precisely his discoloured orbs followed the motion.

“Is Louis awake?” Niall called desperately from the driver’s seat, whooping when a small groan of confirmation sounded from the floor of the van. He had just passed the line for South Lake Tahoe, and Louis was alive. Life was, for the moment, doable.

The sudden vision of Harry standing over Zayn distracted Louis’ eye exercise, but Zayn didn’t count it against him. The meaningful expression Louis adopted when he saw his lover proved he was obviously in cognizant health.

“How are you feeling, love?” Harry asked, only semi gentle as he ushered Zayn out of his way.

“I’m okay,” Louis sniffled, corralling his tugging negative emotions back into his mind because they did _not_ need to shine through right now. He looked around his body and noted a cotton ball smashed against his inner elbow wrapped in a cuff of masking tape, and he could only guess what that meant. “What exactly happened?” Louis inquired, trying to sit himself up and getting pushed down by two pairs of hands.

“Just lie there for a while, okay? You’re probably not going to be very coordinated for another hour or so. And you fainted as soon as you got inside, so I gave you a transfusion,” Zayn informed, leaning down and making sure there was _not one thing_ irregular with his heartbeat and blood movement.

“I thought you just worked in a basement,” Louis croaked, coughing as his words got stuck by a patch of dryness in his throat.

Zayn had rolled his eyes and scoffed at Louis’ words, and he was five words deep into defending himself to the rudely snorting Harry when the still healing Louis made a small request: “Water?”

“Of course, Lou,” Harry said, craning his neck to survey their belongings. “Does anyone even have water?” he asked the van, Tanner popping up in recognition.

“I do!” the butler’s human gasped, chucking his half-empty bottle backward with abandon because he knew it would be flawlessly caught by one of the immortals.

That immortal was Harry, and he uncapped it with fervor, carefully lifting Louis’ head and tilting the bottle to his parted lips, trying not to choke him by spilling too much at once.

The hydrating rush of water felt like the first rain after a year-long drought in Louis’ body, and he sighed in satisfaction after Harry had tipped it up and away from him, smiling to thank them all for their assistance.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Harry asked, handing the bottle off and making Zayn search around for the discarded cap.

“Harry, I love you with my entire soul. I know you know that,” Louis grunted because he couldn’t hold it back, forcing himself to sit regardless of the strong opposition to the action.

“Baby,” Harry whined, pulling Louis into his lap and backing them up against the left wall of the van, simmering in the delightful skin-to-skin contact with his precious lover. “I know that. I’ll _always_ know that. I also know how you feel about Auron, and what he did to you—” A short pause because it was painful to admit, “—But he’ll get what’s coming to him for hurting you. That I promise. I will rip his sinister head right off his shoulders and devour the throat that comes oozing out of it,” he said with such ardent conviction that Louis found himself biting his lip in arousal.

“I can’t believe I keep forgetting how powerful you really are,” Louis confessed, snuggling into his warrior and fingering around his neck with a leaden hand, imagining he could feel the marks that covered it. Marks he’d hopefully be reintroduced to someday.

“My proclivity for savagery isn’t something I actively enjoy displaying,” Harry chuckled, his ancient Roman heritage radiating from his pores as his compelling green eyes glowed with vengeance and retribution. “It’s what separates me from him. And vampires like him. But make no mistake...I’ve been there. And to protect you, I will go back there as many times as I have to. I will kill anything for you. I’ll slaughter entire countries to keep you safe, and I won’t bat an eye,” he swore, Louis swooning harder with every word and clutching onto his shirt.

“You're not alone in this fight, my love. Remember that well,” Louis and Alex stressed, Harry’s face shining with adoration and love for the creature in his arms.

“I promise I won’t forget that,” he assured, leaning in closer so at least the humans would not hear this part. “You were once much stronger than I am, blowing my hardest strikes out of the water with almost no effort from you. Even if you have to start over again from scratch, you belong in this fight, and you _belong_ in my species. In the world of immortality,” he whispered, unable to hold back nuzzling into Louis’ jawline as he spoke. “When the time is right, I _will_ turn you. And when I do, nothing in this world will ever stop us again.”

Louis smiled and kissed Harry’s cheek, lacking the energy to lift both arms around him, but Harry noticed the attempt and connected their lips instead. They both lost their concentration on anything else as they dazedly kissed, Louis’ confidence returning in small spurts because Harry had just reminded him who was really boss.

Auron might have guilt-inducing and tempting qualities about him, and he might occasionally haunt the recesses of Louis’ mind, but he could never eradicate his ancient and momentous love for Hadrian. As individuals of impenetrable will, Louis, Alexander, and Harry already reigned supreme. Put them all together into one united force, and Auron was at a classically stark disadvantage that he would never live to see conquered.

The presumptuous twin hadn’t “won” at all. Not fucking yet.

“Guys, look!” Niall suddenly cried with glee, all passengers of the van, including Harry with Louis hiked up in his arms, got a glimpse out the windshield. There before them was a large collection of log lined buildings, giving the impression of a country club or fancy mountain resort, and they’d never been happier to just simply _reach_ a destination.

As suddenly as a blink, the manic forms of Harlock and Jenner came hurtling across the dirt path toward the car with equal looks of relief and distress on their faces. It seemed as though Jenner was headed straight for the back of the van because he passed the driver and passenger doors like they didn’t exist, and Louis made out the empathetic and muffled shout of “What the fuck happened?!” before the warlock had even made initial contact.

The back doors then swung open and the fiery redheaded warlock leapt into the vehicle, freezing in place as he locked eyes with every individual there was to see—individuals he’d unknowingly sent off toward an imminently terrible and traumatic future just two nights ago. “What happened?” he tried again, this time noticing the whole picture: Louis’ blatant anemia, a cooler box with a hospital logo on the outside, and the strained expressions on every tired face in the van.

Harlock stepped in behind Jenner and placed a soothing hand on the small of his back, taking in the sights and scents himself, valiantly keeping his face neutral whilst a destructive storm brewed behind his furious irises.

“Ugh,” Louis groaned, coughing into his fist and meeting the wide hazel eyes of the magical human. “That—” he emphasized with a philosophical wag of his pointer finger, “—that is a very loaded question.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Jenner, he's such a motherly figure ahhh. Enter next: Erakus Sparrow and his crazy family.


	13. The Immortal Family In The Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortish and uneventful-ish, but no worries. Next chapter will take care of that. >:) OH! I forgot last time. If anyone wants my 60's and 70's playlists, they're right here. Just in case you don't know enough music from those time periods or where to find the gems. I'm quite 70's obsessed. 
> 
> 1960's: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIagBiupvs1hZEg9ytUtT4zUj332WK6Vp 
> 
> 1970's: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIagBiupvs1gJHUPNb62vDrDF1e5FrAr9 
> 
> !!!*** EVEN TINIER ELEMENTS OF NON-CON TOWARD THE END ***!!!

“Yeah, _I’ve got time_ ,” Jenner assured manically, hopping out of the van with Harlock so their friends would have room to exit themselves.

“Not now, Jenner, Louis needs rest,” Harry said, gracefully stepping down onto the dirt path with Louis in his arms.

“Harry!” a voice called, a pair of feet kicking up small pebbles as they ran to the vehicle. Harry turned around and quirked his eyebrows, but it was Louis to respond.

“Erakus,” he greeted quietly, the rest of his group locked in a fiery passion of whisper-shouts while Niall and Tanner filled Jenner and Harlock in on what had happened.

Erakus stopped in his tracks when he caught full sight of Louis, noting the jarring traits of internal trauma: the bandage wrapped around his bloodstained neck, his scent and overall appearance drastically different than usual, and body uncommonly low in blood, the vital essence lumbering through his veins like a liquid tortoise. Erakus’s steps were pointed and full of purpose as he approached, his voice twinged with worry as he spoke, “Louis, what...what _happened_ to you?”

“He was attacked, but we healed the worst of it,” Harry responded, intentionally leaving out the detail of the attacker’s identity. “Sorry we’re late,” he said, the fact that he wasn’t the least bit remorseful ringing clear.

Erakus scoffed and shook his head, turning over his shoulder and yelling for his Father. “No, don’t worry about it, we just—I can’t believe you were stopped at the border!” he cried, changing the topic now that he knew Louis was at least going to live. “When I heard that Tanner called...what had happened...I’m so sorry, I don’t know if we could have done anything from our side. Maybe we should have met you at the border, but nobody knew it would be…” He didn’t seem to know how to continue because the situation was so out of the ordinary, but Harry saved him from making more baseless apologies.

“Erakus, this was just a cog in the wheel of dissonance,” Harry said, his eyes zooming in on the group of vampires that pooled out from the largest of the log buildings.

“What on Earth! How you’ve suffered!” the frontman mourned, sharing such a striking resemblance to Erakus that Louis figured this was William, the snide vampire’s Father. “What can I do? This is just awful,” he said, looking the group of newcomers up and down and spending special attention on Louis.

“He needs rest,” Harry informed, pointing his chin down to Louis as he slightly raised him up in his arms. “Can we be seen to a private room?” he asked, William immediately gesturing his arm and retreating to guide them.

“Right this way,” he said, Harry’s group following to get the humans out of the freezing temperatures.

William led them up the steps to the main building and across the squeaky planks of the yellow-lit porch. A porch Louis was amused to see decorated with darkly stained and sticky looking tables, splintered chairs with rips and tears in their floral seat pads, empty and crumpled beer and soda pop cans, overflowing and crusty ashtrays, and one heavily stickered acoustic guitar leaned against the wall of the house, its strings poking out from the tuning pegs like a sea anemone. _My kind of place._

A dazzlingly blonde, stringy-haired human girl in a knitted halter top and high waisted, decoratively patched bell-bottoms suddenly opened the door for them, almost knocking her cat-eye glasses off her face when she slapped a hand to her cherry lipsticked mouth. “Get him inside,” she said, stepping back and ushering Harry in first.

Martin and Zayn began to fill her in on Louis’ condition after she’d squeaked her inquiry, but Louis lost track once Harry had carried him into the abode, turning his attention to the residents in the spacious living room. Crowded around the crackling fireplace behind them stood a wide variety of both humans and immortals, the equal combination of genders on both sides striking Louis as peculiar. Perhaps he’s biased by the company he keeps, but he couldn’t remember a single time he’d ever seen a female vampire—and if he wasn’t gay, he might be drooling.  

Most of the humans at the fireplace craned their necks to get a look at their new and alarmingly battered visitors, but the vampires among them averted their eyes out of respect, each finding a contrived fascination in the floorboards. Louis followed their gaze out of curiosity and spotted shaggy rugs of rusted oranges and purples sporadically flapped onto the hardwood floorboards, most snagged at the corner by coffee table legs and clunky loveseats.

The girl who had greeted them stepped back into view once she’d extracted the necessary information, speaking out urgently to hurry things along. “This way,” she said, sweeping down the hallway that cut the spacious living room in half, carved out directly across from the front door.

Harry nodded curtly and walked Louis past the group of gawkers and awkward immortals, turning sideways once more to get Louis through the uncooperative width of the hallway. With a short period of sidestepping, the trio arrived outside the last room on the right, and the girl sharply twisted the rickety knob with obvious practice, a short duel breaking out as she maneuvered the testy mechanics of the door.

At last she wrangled it open with a satisfying click, scoffing in annoyance as she swung the troublesome thing ajar. “Put him here,” she said the moment she’d crossed the threshold, pointing to a full sized bed with a white metal frame and four great big golden orbs of brass slapped onto the head and foot poles.

When Louis got his first look at the gentle interior of the room, a coveted feeling of comfort swept over the background hum of his prickly tension. The bedroom’s colour theme was a deep forest green, set by the side tables that flanked the bed, the gaudy dresser across it, the sliding closet doors, and works of oil-painted piney landscapes that hung tastefully on the insulated wooden walls.

A padded rocking chair in shades of burgundy occupied the furthest corner, and a window seat had been built into the base of the thinly paned glass, a stack of half-read books collecting dust on the sill, veiled by white sheer curtains that _certainly_ provided no protection from the daylight, that was for sure. The bedspread they approached was off-white and quilted with big, gaudy roses stitched into it, and Louis could just...he could just really see himself growing old in a room like this.

He was then laid upon the bed as though he’d floated through the air, and the human girl in their company promptly began inspecting him like some kind of professional, first checking his pulse, then poking around at the arm he’d had the needle embedded in for over four hours. “Looks like nothing went wrong with the transfusion,” she noted, her lips pursing as she studied his pallor. “Bit pale, but that’s to be expected. If you start getting a fever, or chills, or you start sweating profusely, we’ll need to get you to a hospital, because that could mean you’re allergic to the blood,” she said, her fleeting tone suggesting that she didn’t expect that to be happening.

“What’s your name?” Louis asked, lacking the energy to spark banter any more in-depth and complex than introductions.

She smiled and removed her stylish glasses, mercilessly scrubbing the flecked lenses with a cloth from her front pocket. “I’m Lori,” she said, squinting her brown eyes at her spectacles before returning them to her face, mending her forgotten side-part and flinging the locks of layered blonde hair over her right shoulder.

“Louis,” he reciprocated, his eyelids drooping as he intermittently sprung them back open. “Sorry this isn’t under better circumstances,” he slurred, Lori patting his hand and removing herself from the springy mattress.

“Just get better,” she said, turning to Harry and murmuring some parting words before clicking her platform heels out the door and down the hall.

“Just one second, Lou,” Harry said, dashing out the way she’d gone and returning a moment later with Niall and Tanner in tow. “Can you last a bit with them while I go talk to William?” he asked, striding over to kneel aside the bed and rest his chin on his hands.

“I...think I can manage with these two dweebs,” Louis murmured tiredly, a small break in his speech to clear his throat.

“Great. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?” Harry sighed, both of his hands folding over Louis’ upper arm and giving him a tiny squeeze.

“Gotcha,” Louis whispered, the closed eyed smile foreshadowing his imminent entrance into the land of dreams.

Harry quietly chuckled and rose to his full height, bending down to kiss his angel on the forehead before he turned to address the look-out squad. “So fever and chills and stuff,” he reminded just to drill it into their heads.

“Harry, you’re not even going far. Don’t worry, we’ll be watching him. We’ll yell for you if anything changes, okay? Go vouch for us, we need this place,” Tanner said, Harry’s brow subtly cinching from the last statement.

“Are they having second thoughts?” he asked just above a whisper, Tanner squirming in his Converse high-tops.

“Harlock told me on the phone that the jail thing had set William on edge…” the frizzy-haired human replied just as softly, giving a shrug because he didn’t know the details. “Should be fine, but I don’t know. Just go talk to them.”

“Trust me, Harry. This is Louis,” Niall declared, his fierce passion over the livelihood his best friend a hard thing to understate.

“Alright, fine. Thank you,” Harry said, chasing the familiar scent of Martin to get himself where he needed to be. The scent took him back through the living room, and he turned right into the kitchen, finding his butler standing outside an adjacent den with two glass plated doors.

Martin opened the right door and shot Harry a forced look of encouragement, refusing to acknowledge that they were all falling apart on the inside. Harry passed him with a subtle caress to his freckled cheek, and hopped down two wide steps, coming into a room with a sizeable oval table that seated both his group (including Harlock and Jenner), and William’s. The Sparrow leader’s side was compiled of seven vampires who were most likely his best advisors, and two extra similar-smelling and weathered immortals that were clearly related by blood, and probably William's parents. There was also Erakus, sulking on his feet behind his Father like a disciplined child, and two boys a ways behind him that bore a obvious resemblance to the main branch. The den had full carpeting, and a series of shelves that propped bottles of alcohol on the far right wall, along with the obnoxiously ticking grandfather clock that sat beside them.

The table had a crystalline ashtray before every seat, but the most common vices appeared to be cigars, as proven by William promptly puffing one alive as soon as Harry had entered. The Roman searched his pockets for his Winston brand cigarettes, keeping one stick pulled only halfway from the acquired pack in a silent question, drawing it all the way out when William hummed with a nod of approval.

“Please,” the warm-hearted leader urged as he gestured to the empty seat beside Zayn, a thick plume of cigar smoke rolling out through his teeth.  

Harry sat in the leather chair he was motioned to, Zayn reaching over and flicking a Zippo at the end of his cigarette for him before he would need to do something unthinkable like ask. “First of all, I’d like to thank you for taking us in even after you’d heard the stakes…” A small pause to expel the smoke from his lungs, “...Then furthermore holding true even after the arrest. It is something not many would do, and we appreciate it. We will get out of your hair immediately, I only ask that you—”

“With respect, Elder Harry, I’m not in any rush to see you off,” William said personably, Erakus’s eyes flying to his Father in surprise.

“You’re not?” the wary son asked.

Harry sat quietly and watched the scene. Judging by William’s place at the head of the table, Harry could tell that it was usually him who spoke first and controlled the proceedings. Just because a rare Elder such as Harry could flip those tables and take the system into his own hands, did not mean William would tolerate being interrupted by his second son.

“Quiet, Erakus!” the black-haired vampire hollered, his punk dressing son biting his lip with a careful fang and backing off before he was further humiliated. “I admit, I had my doubts,” he continued to Harry, who idly took drags of his cigarette as he listened. “Even now, when I don't have all the details. From what I was told by Harlock, you were fleeing from Idaho to hide from a ‘rather gruesome lot’ that had been tracking you for two days and had run you out of your house,” he said, waiting on Harry to either confirm or deny.

“That part is true…”

“And then I received a secondary phone call from Harlock regarding the humans’ arrests, and was told Harlock, Jenner, and my Erakus would all be meeting you here in Tahoe instead of just Erakus… Now I see you’ve come with your human, who has obviously suffered some form of trauma, and you all look like you’ve never been more terrified in your lives,” he said, his desire for all the details palpable in the tense air.

“The thing is, William...all of that is true, but the situation as a whole is definitely worse than Harlock may have made it sound,” Harry replied, unfortunately throwing his friend under the bus, but Harry refused to be the cause for an invasion transpiring because they’d all sugar-coated the danger they were in.

“Would you explain?” William urged, a woman with long black hair and almond shaped eyes in a polka-dotted sundress slipping in through the doors and rushing to stand beside Erakus and put her arm around his shoulder.

Whereas this would usually be the time that Harry would give up and look to Martin or Zayn to explain for him, he had to stop that at some point and own up to his problems, and this seemed the time that called for it. “The previously alleged enemy was my twin brother, Auron. He would never be a problem on his own, but he’s always had a large following of vampires and humans alike to do his bidding for him and give him strength in numbers. Even so, that _still_ wouldn’t have been an unwinnable battle,” he chuckled.

“Yet, it was bigger than that,” William guessed, astute to his credit.

“Yeah...it _is_ Auron, and his armies that span in age from teenagers to seasoned Elders...but apparently my maker is involved as well. And he is not a foe I would ever wish to face head-on. At this point in time, I don't particularly see a clear way out of this. If this is all how it seems, my list of advantages has grown scarcely thin, and endangering anyone else is the last thing I’d want to—”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Erakus’s assumed Mother snapped in a tone that had every creature in the room cringing as though it had been their own Mother. “Don’t you see where this apprehension will lead you? Loss of drive may ensure that you and your human die! Is that what you want? You need to protect your own like a wrathful _God_  or you’re not worthy to have them,” she sneered, the effect of her words cutting Harry like a scythe.

“Jupiter,” he breathed, her strength of will lighting up the shadows in his hopeless corner of doom like the headlights of a semi-truck. Wow, he really _has_ been spending a lot of time in the human world. “Well what's your plan then?” he asked pointedly, daring her to come up with something useful. “The way I see it, jumping into the fray will only get us killed, running and hiding will only prolong that fate, and hiding among others will just get them killed too.”

“All things must come to an end, even we immortals,” she brushed aside like that wasn't even a reasonable concern. “But if you won't even put up a fight, you might as well just kill yourself now.”

“....You're incredible,” Harry praised out of genuine respect; not many vampires would have the brass to speak so plainly to an Elder of his stature, but this woman saw no difference between them. And considering they weren't enemies on the field of battle, wherein their differences would indeed come into play, she wasn't entirely wrong.

“On the contrary, I'm merely sane,” she argued, pushing the thick blankets of her long black hair back over her shoulders because they'd slipped forward during her rampage.

“My brother is now able to track my human through a recently formed bond of blood. Say he grabs his best and strikes hell upon this place. What would you do then?” he challenged, trying to find a sensible crack in her confidence.

“If they came to this home, I would move the stars to defend it, or I would die trying. I would do anything I had to. Kill them all with frying pans if every other option had been expended,” she vowed, Erakus searing his eyes into Harry's in a significant manner that silently said, ‘Told you.’

Harry had to admit her conviction was both impressive and uplifting in the moment, but could it be applied as zealously as she advertised it?

He decided to test it.

Faster than anyone could anticipate it, Harry lunged for Erakus’s Mother, but the woman had been the only one to expect it. She blocked his fist with only minor damages to her forearm, letting out a roar as she swung back. The two parried for the next half minute, mindful of the furniture they would obliterate if they got too wild, and cries of encouragement were heard from her three present children, and the rest of their audience.

The woman put up a noteworthy fight, and Harry was pleasantly surprised. He wasn't using every morsel of his strength, because the outcome of that was obvious, but he put up the fight of Auron’s more experienced and middle-aged club vampires, and she held her own.

Her blocks were seamless for the speed at which he was pummeling his attacks with, and he even had to block a few times. When he dubbed her worthy of and suitable for a real immortal battle, he backed off and held his hands up.

She flipped her long hair back again and hastily fixed her disheveled dress, placing her hands on her hips as she waited for a verdict from the Elder she'd squared off with.

“Erakus, you should be very proud that you came from this woman,” Harry said, sparking another cigarette out of celebration.

“I am, believe me. But Veronica is not the only one here with that fire, you know. All of us train daily, and we know how to fight. Let us show you,” Erakus urged, William nodding in agreement.

Harry thought it over and sighed, his inner voice telling him not to stay under any circumstance, but he promised himself he would take his group and leave if things got too heavy. “Alright...we’ll stay for a bit. Auron’s fighters may come in waves, but I have no way of knowing if he'll make an appearance of his own or not. If he does, I beg all of you not to engage him. I will face him myself,” he stressed, William seeming more than happy to tell his fighters not to attempt battling the twin Elder.

“And what of the maker?” William inquired, that little (gigantic) plot point staying at the top of all concerns.

“Azazel is astoundingly old. He doesn't like lifting a finger if he doesn't have to...I can't be completely sure, but something is telling me his eyes are set on a much bigger picture than my death. Auron’s passion lies within taking me down, and they might be working together—” A short pause for him to fuss over what the fuck that could even mean, “—but I think that scheme concerns a lot more than me. Whatever Azazel is planning is sure to be catastrophic, and we'll all know when he makes his move...but I can almost guarantee he would not come here. Something like that is trivial to someone like him.”

“So it’s settled then?” Veronica asked, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“Guess so,” Harry replied flippantly, stamping his cigarette out into the glass ashtray and resting his hands overlaid on the table.

“We’ll set you up with some rooms right away, the sun is well on its upward journey,” William said, two vampires on his left promptly walking out to assumedly deal with that concept.

“I have a question, actually,” Harry said to William, giving Erakus, his unknown brothers, and Veronica his eyes as well to show an answer could come from any of them.

“What’s that?” William asked.

“Well...who turned this entire family?” Harry inquired, having wondered what the secret was to Erakus’s family ever since he’d heard Louis squeaking over it in Harlock’s office.

“My Father did,” William answered as he gestured to the elderly man across from him, a roll of his eyes broadcasting his bemusement over that indescribably odd day. “Why don't you tell the story, Papa Kyösti?" he asked his Father, who gruffly cleared his throat and shifted his eyes to Harry.

"I'd been turned for reasons my family didn’t understand at the time, since I'd kept the secret close to my useless chest, but I had contracted tuberculosis in the late-1800’s when we still living in Finland, and a passing vampire felt the need to ‘cure it’ for me, though I was glad he did. Unable to stand the thought of watching my successors die before myself, I turned every last one of them in a single night to remain a unit forever,” he chuckled, to the thankfully understanding nodding of Harry.

"And we're very glad you did, Papa," William said honestly, able to admit that had he been the first to turn, he may have done the exact same thing.

“I see,” Harry hummed, his curiosity sated. “I must thank you all again for your hospitality. We’ll try to stay out of your way,” he said, standing to make his leave.

“Oh, wait just one moment, Harry,” William said, Harry freezing and lowering himself back down respectfully.

“Yes?”

“Transfusion or not, your human’s blood is still very easy to detect...and not that it’s any of my business...but would you tell me why the scent of that blood could almost be mistaken for that of an Elder?”

 

~~~

 

_“I've brought you water, my lord. Please drink it,” Bagoas begged, the sight of his ill lover and King tearing him in two._

_Aléxandros slowly opened his eyes, his feeble breath rattling in his chest as he tried to speak without coughing the blood from his dying body. “Leave me,” he rasped, all his energy going to slapping the goblet of water off the tray and onto the ground, where it then clattered against the stone bricks in such an annoying trill that his headache increased tenfold._

_“Please...please take care of yourself,” Bagoas cried, his tears spilling down his cheeks as he held the empty tray against his chest as though it were a shield from his saddened emotions._

_Aléxandros painfully chuckled, the act unfortunately precipitating the curséd torturous coughs to wrack through his throat, a spurt of blood teasing the back of his dry mouth. “What good...would it do?” he reasoned to his beautiful and Persian eunuch consort, the pain in his everything still so far behind the pain in his heart. He had lost Hephaestion. The treasured Patroclus to his reckless Achilles. The man he loved more than anything in Asia—more than anything in the entire world, known or otherwise._

_“I’m so sorry,” Bagoas mourned, slowly backing up because it had become clear that Aléxandros would not be reasoned with._

_“No o—no one is more...sorry than I,” the Mégas stuttered and choked, flicking his wrist to banish the loyal servant of sex from his bed. If he was forced to die the same death of his Hephaestion, he would be doing it alone._

_Bagoas wiped his eyes with the long sleeve of his flowing dress, bowing deeply before scurrying out, closing the chamber doors behind him so no other visitors could interrupt him on his journey into the next life._

_Aléxandros returned his watery and irritated eyes to the ceiling of the last room he would ever see, the rashes on his decaying skin burning in protest from such a simple motion. This sickness had taken his muse, though...surely he could face it with a tad more valor._

_He closed his eyes and pictured Hephaestion’s face as he remembered it, before it had lost all its colour and radiance. His waved hair that pooled just past his shoulders, the stormy grey of his inquisitive and observant eyes, the shape of his smiling lips, everything. He thought about everything. The face he would make as he climaxed, the music in his laughter, the strong and forceful swinging of his sword upon the necks of his enemies—Aléxandros’s enemies._

_“My love, will I find you?” he whispered, abandoning his imagination to open his leaden eyelids once more. “Am I coming to you? Are you waiting? Will I see you?”_

_“If you lack that confidence, Mégas, I offer you another option,” a mysterious voice spoke crisply into the room, making Aléxandros’s quitting heart beat faster regardless._

_“Approach me,” he croaked, too weak to lift his head from the pillow it was sinking into._

_A figure suddenly appeared hovered over the bed, face white and pale underneath a full russet beard, his dark eyes glistening in the candlelight. “Shall I tell you your alternative?” he asked, speaking gibberish nonsense in the delirious ears of Aléxandros._

_“What is the meaning of—this?” he panted, fighting to keep his eyes open and his view clear, the unknown man still blurring in and out of focus no matter what._

_“The illness of humans is unbearable, is it not?” the man asked, taking a presumptuous seat beside the King and infuriatingly placing a hand on his shuddering chest._

_“You dare touch me!” Aléxandros seethed, his subsequent coughs preventing the string of threats he desired so very much to deliver. “Let me die in peace,” he demanded, wishing the suffering of his final journey to be had in solitude._

_“You accept this death? If I leave you now, you will not last the night. If you die here lain upon this bed, in fifty years or so, there will be no generation left alive to remember Hephaestion. He will wither into the myths of history, the marble effigies the very last to commemorate his beauty, until they too disintegrate from wear. No humans left to remember him as he was—the boy who meant the world to the leader of Asia.”_

_“Your words are venom,” Aléxandros grunted, feeling as though he could burst with rage from being forced to listen to such hate when his body would not move to stop it. If he could fist the handle of a sword, he’d swiftly end the heartless taunts of the stranger, but he lacked the ability to hold one such weapon, even to slay himself with._

_“They would be if I did not have the solution,” the man agreed, a knowing smirk forming on his fox-like face, “but I do. Accept my offer, and you shall live forever. That way, history can run its forgetful course, and Hephaestion will still thrive within you, vivid as the day you met.”_

_“Live...forever?” Aléxandros asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am no God...my Mother lied to me. Nothing divine is left in this wretch, certainly not I. Hephaestion was the closest creature of divinity in all of Asia, and now he too is gone,” he slurred, his speech growing harder to force as the mud of death in his body seeped into his mind._

_“You miss the meaning entirely, my lord,” the man laughed, revealing a shockingly long nail and making a small incision on the left side of his own neck. “If I told you, and you held no doubt in the words, that I could make you live forever...would you say yes? Would you want it?” he asked, his eagerness spilling out with his black blood as he leaned forward in anticipation._

_Aléxandros squinted his dubious eyes at the ominous character before him, not to mention the disturbing colour of his blood, and repeated the question to himself as he gave sober thought to its implication. Perhaps nothing would come of this fantastic promise...but he would surely die within mere hours if he chose to do nothing. An acceptance became the only logical response of the circumstances, and he met the stranger’s eyes with fierce determination. “Yes.”_

_The stranger grinned in victory, and maybe Aléxandros had seen the sharp teeth behind his lips, maybe he’d hallucinated it, but when the man presented him his bleeding neck, Aléxandros forgot all about his teeth. “Take my blood in your mouth, and my promise shall be upheld,” he said urgently, lowering himself on top of the sickly King and placing his neck against his chapped and white lips._

_Aléxandros darted his tongue out to taste the black substance at his mouth, and when the liquid touched his unsuspecting tongue, his humanity blew away like sand in the wind. He gasped as his senses became engulfed in all-consuming flames, the robust flavour of the stranger’s peculiar blood growing more unfathomably delicious by the second._

_His energy was restored in a rapid ascension, but he soon realized it was a magnitude of energy he’d never before experienced; for it was an ethereal power brewing deep within him, engorging and thorning his insides as he underwent the transformation of a lifetime._

_His own blood curdled uncomfortably within his body as his skin dispelled the rash and blisters of his fever, his upper gums stinging as his two top incisors grew several millimeters past their natural length, the tips filing down to form a pair of deadly blades while he heavily salivated from two grainy patches of membrane that had mysteriously appeared in the very back of his upper mouth._

_Without thinking, he slammed his new and improved teeth deep into the neck he’d taken meager kitten licks from before, the sensation of biting another awakening a demon from the shards of his shattered soul, its dastardly presence clawing through the depths to overtake him forever. He let it in without a second of delay, pulling off from the stranger’s neck and gasping for the air he thought he’d need, a startled hand flying to his chest when he discovered he did not. His still heart sat uselessly within his ribs like an accessory, his body indescribably empty and barren of all vitality, and he finally grasped what it meant. He was dead._

_“What have you done to me?” he demanded, the frantic entering of Bagoas, who had likely run in at the sound of shouts, suddenly taking over Aléxandros’s every thought like he’d been cast into a spell. Through the needless use of breath, he could easily smell the living blood coursing through the boy’s golden skin—living blood he knew he needed and did not have. The sound of it was equivalent to the waving of oceans, and the desire to take it was too great to bear._

_The still unidentified man who had cursed him to this state of existence disappeared from his side like he’d been a mirage, only to reappear behind Bagoas and rush him forward to ease into Aléxandros’s strengthened arms. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked the man over the boy’s shoulder, surprised to find his adored consort caught in a trance of worship as he rubbed himself against Aléxandros’s body._

_“Bite him,” the man replied without a care, taking a seat on the luxurious lounge centered in the room as he directed his attention elsewhere, likely to give the illusion of Aléxandros’s privacy._

_The scent and feeling of warm skin against the cold temperature of his own was maddeningly enjoyable, and the human in his arms—can he himself not identify as human anymore?—reached up and placed his hands upon his face, begging and pleading for something neither of them were quite yet privy to._

_“Please, my lord,” he whimpered, tilting his head back to bear his neck and expose the veins that automatically raised in want, the demon inside the Asian King screaming out for it like a rabid dog._

_Aléxandros had no more reason to fight their shared desire. His new instincts led the way as he drove his inhuman fangs into the heated flesh of his wondrous Bagoas, both of their worlds exploding into unparalleled euphoria that had them keening and moaning like roughly caressed women. Aléxandros tightened his arms around the life source at his tongue and flipped him over to press him into his bed, chuckling in glee as his revived heart beat like the drums of war, his healthy body coming alive and lighting the sticky clouds of darkness that the stranger had forced into him._

_It was then that he understood. Even if he would now exist until the end of time, he would never truly live again._

 

~~~

 

“Louis?”

_Louis? Who is Louis?_

“Louis.”

_Is that supposed to be me?_

“Louis!”

_That’s not my name._

“LOUIS!”

Louis broke through the barriers of his consciousness, the roar of his name slapping him in the face without the use of physical force. He snapped his eyes open and lunged upward to grab his interrupter, hooking his arms around Harry’s shoulders and yanking him down on top of him, mindlessly biting the skin of his neck like a starved immortal.

“ _Gods_ , Louis, what on _Earth_ are you doing to me?” Harry snorted, his tone able to be construed as either concerned, aroused, bemused, _or_ fascinated.

But Louis wasn't listening. Images of a bearded Elder on a lounge and a pretty boy beneath him flashed behind his eyelids as his gums momentarily tingled—slightly aching as though something was stirring above them.

Then, in the fleeting passing of a second, he forgot everything he’d just seen. No images remained anywhere in the deep recesses of his mind, and when he opened his eyes, the sight of his position scared the shit out of him, and he scrambled away from Harry like the vampire was a snake in the sheets. What the _hell_?

“Are you...are you okay?” Harry asked, feeling around at the little indents of teeth marks Louis had left on his skin before they evened back out due to his instantaneous healing abilities.  

“Uh? Yeah, I just...I’m sorry?” Louis said inquisitively, like he was unsure of whether to apologize or not, and honestly, neither of them knew.

“Don’t…don’t worry about it,” Harry eased, pushing off the mattress to sit upright. “Uh, we’re moving to another building to sleep for the day, so that’s why I’ve woken you,” he explained to the frazzled Louis, looking over to establish eye contact, but finding something particularly intriguing instead. Louis was staring off into space while he poked at the tips of his human teeth, going even further to gnaw on the skin of his index finger as though he was conducting an experiment. “Louis?” Harry asked carefully, the human’s eyes flying to him in an instant.

“Oh,” Louis mumbled, dropping his hand and pretending that whole event had not just occurred. “Yeah, let’s go,” he accepted, shocking Harry by springing out of bed like a gopher, no evidence of his anemia left anywhere in his body.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Harry praised, lifting the healed Louis into his arms and nuzzling into his neck affectionately.

Louis returned the embrace, but his attention was still fixated on his immobile teeth, non-stop licking at them with his tongue to try and make them do that thing again. That thing he could have sworn he’d felt just minutes ago…

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re remembering your old self, aren’t you? You seem to be looking for your fangs,” he noted as he lowered Louis back onto the creaky floor, the human immediately pacing around the room as he contemplated the validity of Harry’s accusation.

Louis flexed his upper lip back and focused on isolating and activating the muscles that would release his fangs, huffing when no amount of sheer imagination made them appear. He was most definitely a human. “I was…” he agreed after a short period of silence, only stopping his wily strides to nowhere when Harry captured him in his arms.

“I know how you might miss them, Louis,” Harry sympathized, keeping his own far away from the situation lest he cruelly taunt Louis’ human self. “But don’t worry...I promise I’ll give them back to you,” he vowed, Louis’ multicoloured eyes warming in adoration.

“Come on, Hadrian. I fucking hate sunlight lately,” Louis groaned, dragging Harry out of the guest room he’d slept in and down the hall to this mysterious other location they’d been offered.

Harry chuckled to himself as his lover directed him through the house as though his arm was Louis’ leash, amazed to see and hear so many vampiric qualities break through the surface of Louis’ human exterior. His historical glory was coming back bit by bit, and a newfound aversion to sunlight couldn’t have been any more relevant than it was right now. “Of course you do.”

 

~~Later that night~~

 

_Louis was stood in a room of nothing but white. He walked forward and looked around guardedly, the ethereal glow of his environment suggesting that he was most definitely trapped inside some alternate dimension apart from reality. He furrowed his eyebrows as he pondered what the point to all of this was, figuring that if dreams had the power to teach you lessons, this one was rather useless._

_“Behind you,” a voice taunted in amusement, scaring Louis right out of his skin as he spun around to face the voice he knew like the back of his hand. The moment he caught sight of Auron, the endless white blasted away to become Auron’s old room in the Roman Empire when they had all coexisted together. The vampire himself was lazily draped across a lengthy podium that was decorated in the finest of silks and cottons, his attire limited to a bunched up skirt that had fallen down his front, exposing his upper thigh and shaping his body exactly how it was, leaving only the most private area to be mystified—but if he was Hadrian’s twin, Louis already knew what that looked like._

_“What are you doing here?” Louis demanded, glancing down at his own body and realizing he was wearing a casual purple tunic for comfort, his mind fully submerging him into the time period in which this dream was taking place._

_“Coming when you called,” the twin replied, stretching his frame out like a cat and groaning tiredly._

_“What do you mean?” Louis snorted, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he planted his feet upon the floor, practically growing roots from the soles of his feet into the ground so he would not be moved under any circumstances._

_“I have you in a lure, sweetheart. You think I can’t find you anywhere you are? Didn’t I tell you I could?” he asked knowingly, his troubled and inconvenienced attitude toward the whole thing putting Louis out of sorts._

_“What are you rolling your eyes for?” Louis snapped, cringing under the flash of interest in Auron’s darker toned eyes. “I didn’t choose this.”_

_“On the contrary, your heart wanted me so badly that you summoned me here out of sheer desperation,” Auron laughed, pushing himself up on the leisure furniture to sit upright, his bare legs crossing over the edge as his hands curled around the base frame._

_“I wouldn’t summon you,” Louis argued surely, refusing to admit that maybe he had created this scenario out of shameful desire. He had sorely missed Auron ever since the addictive immortal had left the jail cell...is this mirage not a remedy to that absence?_

_“You would and you did,” Auron stressed, using his hands to launch himself from his position, stalking toward Louis as though the human was a helpless mouse, the vampire’s shoulders slightly hunched as he looked at him from a sideways angle, reminding Louis of an honest to god serpent. “Why do you deny your affection for me?” he inquired, walking in a slow circle around Louis’ frozen form._

_“Because it’s a lie...it’s a fabrication you created. You’re only asking why I don’t give in to your tricks,” Louis seethed, tensing as the breath of Auron’s touch brushed down the invisible hairs on his back._

_“Wrong,” Auron whispered into his ear, the convulsion that swept over Louis knocking him straight back into Auron’s chest. Auron caught him in an instant, coiling his arms around Louis’ chest and resting both hands underneath the chest sash of his commoner tunic._

_Louis’ legs lost their unassailable determination to support him, and he sagged into the twin’s embrace, non-consensually getting walked toward the daybed that stood innocently in the center of the room. “Explain the part wherein I want this,” Louis grunted, fighting against the journey until he was placed upon the soft material of the structure._

_Auron forewent hopping up alongside him and stayed standing before Louis’ knees, pushing one apart while he yanked the human in by the small of his back, grinning when their fronts smashed together and Louis groaned in pleasure. “You think I’m forcing you to feel this good?” he asked, his hands gripping Louis’ hips and sliding up his back. “You think this takes any effort on my part?” he challenged, reveling in Louis’ shortness of breath as he nuzzled into his neck. “All I’m doing is touching you, Lexy. Your body is doing the rest. You can’t hide your arousal from me, dove, I keep trying to tell you this. It_ _screams_ _for me.”_

_“No…” Louis futilely denied, his disobedient hands finding their way to Auron’s curly long hair. “No, it’s your lure. Just your spell.”_

_Auron snorted, pulling back to give Louis a look that was filled to the brim with condescending disapproval. “It’s not, but I’ll stop pushing the subject. You can think what you want. But Lexy, we can’t keep doing this...these background episodes of forbidden passion...at some point, you’re going to have to choose.”_

_“Choose? Between what, you and Hadrian? That’s not much of a decis—”_

_“Between life or death. You will either be mine, or I will kill you,” Auron informed, touching their foreheads together and closing his eyes as he buzzed happily from their spaceless proximity. “And Hadrian, of course. I’ll destroy the both of you...or you can let me take you,” he compromised, opening his eyes just enough to gaze down at Louis’ fidgeting lips._

_“I’ll never choose you,” Louis growled, struggling to get away and only granting Auron the sick pleasure of holding him closer._

_“Come with me, Louis,” Auron bade, using Alexander’s current name to relate to his human self. “Give yourself to me and I will set you free—freer than you can possibly imagine. I will strip you of your every fear, grant you your every desire. Take my blood and be mine forever—obey my every command and I will give you the world. Everything you could ever want for all of eternity. We can rule the world together with you as my Queen...you will reign over far greater than just Asia,” he emphasized, Louis’ mind exploding with an overload of warning bells._

_“You plan to take over the world?” Louis moaned, trying his hand at acting as he arched into Auron’s cold frame, making it seem as though he was merely curious when in fact, he was trying to extract information._

_“You don’t know what I’m planning, and it’s not something I would unveil while you do not yet belong to me,” Auron taunted vaguely, his tongue licking up Louis’ neck as the human lost a twinge of his coherency. “But you’d best be on my side when it starts,” he threatened, his nails digging into Louis’ thighs and breaking through the skin. Louis cried out, but Auron continued on, uncaring of every spark of stinging pain he was causing. “Follow me down my path to supremacy. Stay under my wing and leave Hadrian and his silly pacifist ideals behind. Let me love you—awaken your immortality—and the world is yours.”_

_Louis was scarily close to accepting the divine offer, even if this was a dream and nothing could truly happen, but Alexander spurred up a rampage in his soul, and he stepped aside as the Asian King thundered onto the scene. “Those...silly ideals…” Alexander grunted as he shoved Auron away with impressive force. “Came from ME, you Roman dog.”_

_Auron’s face twisted into fury, and he grabbed the human creature before him by the neck, yanking him close as he extended his incontrovertible fangs, gearing up to sink them into Louis’ flesh and obliterate his refusal._

_“Louis!” Alexander choked, scratching at Auron’s arms with claws that Louis didn’t yet have, the wrestle against Auron veering to a losing battle as Auron’s fangs nicked his human neck. “Louis, wake up!”_

 

~~~

 

Louis gasped as though he’d been underwater for consecutive minutes, his arched chest having propelled him upright on the bed, thrashing against the arms that had closed around him in an instant. “Get off of me,” he gritted, throwing out vampiric hisses from his mouth, paired with haphazard elbows and fists as the arms released him in a flash.

He leapt from the bed and whipped around with his fingers bent in attack mode, though no claws would grow from his human nails, his human teeth bared as he squared off with Auron. Only it wasn’t Auron...it was Harry. And he was Louis. And they were in their bedroom, the lamp turned on from Harry’s quick reflexes. “Shit, Harry…” he heaved, falling to his knees as he face-planted onto the mattress, trying to calm the hammering of his pulse in his ear drums.

“Louis…” Harry soothed, staying put because he didn’t want to cause another panic attack by reaching out and touching him unexpectedly. “It was him, wasn’t it…”

Louis peeked out from his overlapped forearms and blew the stray hair away from his eyes, pushing it all the way back with a trembling hand as he climbed onto the bed. “He got into my dreams.”

“It wasn’t really him,” Harry informed, unperturbed at Louis’ look of disbelief.

“I’m pretty sure that was actually Auron in my _actual_ _head_ ,” Louis pressed angrily, wondering how the fuck the Elder had pulled off that kind of magical astral projection.

“No, it wasn’t. It’s an effect of his lure. His will and presence are stuck inside you, but he can’t walk around in the dreams of humans. None of us can...trust me, I have this ability as well. He wasn’t truly there for whatever just happened, and he’ll never know what you saw,” Harry swore, a wary hand floating through the air to slap on top of Louis’.

“But...he said things…” Louis said with a high-speed rocket of thoughts plundering through his mind, his overwhelmed brain valiantly holding onto every detail of that dream in case any of it tried to slip away into the recesses of his subconscious memory.

“Like what?” Harry urged, very curious over the unintentionally revealed rantings of his brother’s aura.

“That he plans to...take over the world?” Louis recounted in confusion, not in the slightest at ease over that ominous concept. “He wanted me to…”

“Wanted you to what?” Harry urged, a tight feeling of choking crawling over his dead body, defying the fact that he didn’t need a fleeting thing like oxygen.

Louis lost the memories of the dream after that, growling to the ceiling as he fell backward against the bed, bouncing off the mattress and rubbing his eyelids with the palms of his hands. “I don’t know...be with him, I guess?” he theorized, Harry shushing him and laying himself down beside the frustrated human.

Harry’s mind reeled with the unknown details of his brother’s plot against the apparent planet, horrified over what Azazel’s tie in with this happened to be. Auron had the numbers...Azazel had the power...did they really want the world in their hands? _Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, kiddos. I'm cruel and heartless.


	14. Home-Wrecker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just gonna have to trust me ;)

Two full weeks of life at the Sparrow household had passed by for Louis’ group, marking the date as May 19th, and what had started off as an easy dynamic was steadily growing more difficult with each attack that rained down upon the mountain houses. Harry’s initial prediction of “waves” had unfortunately come to pass, and every available member of the community had to bear down and fight for their home at least one every other night.

The first time had been terrifying, and Louis had been so sure that peril was imminent, but the vampires had fended off the enemies as successfully as they had during the Idaho mansion mini-war, and Louis now understood that this was still just Auron sending little teasing messages to Harry; using expendable vampires as sacrificial pawns to get said message across—he was watching him.

Harlock and Jenner had left after the second day to look after their own community, but Erakus had stuck around to help his family’s forces, and they’d all grown close to his brother Elijah over the past thirteen nights. Louis regularly helped Veronica out with the cooking for the humans, and Tanner had connected with Lori to learn the all the tricks the hippie doctor had in case he’d ever need to save one of their lives (and Zayn was inaccessible).

Louis was currently sat on the floor of the main family’s house (where he’d been first brought in) with Niall, Tanner, Lori, and a girl named Amberly, playing a passionate match of their favourite game together: jacks. The mindless fun of scooping up spindly metal jacks as he raced against the descension of a red rubber ball, combined with the delectable scent of breakfast waffles wafting from the kitchen, served as the perfect distractions from Louis’ haunted mind, fending off the memories of his latest nightmare.

Ever since Auron had assaulted him in jail (he still can’t believe he’d been there in the first place), his hateful dreams had been forcibly commandeered by the Elder twin, any period of shut-eye frequently resulting in a lucid reliving of the vampire’s endorphins coursing through his bloodstream as his indescribable fangs dug deeper and deeper down into his veins. Those were admittedly the worst ones, but not all the dreams were that vivid. Sometimes all he saw was Auron’s face, or heard his luring voice calling out for him from an unseen location within a thick blanket of fog, but whatever the content, Louis was consistently waking up in a hot sweat, panicking and hyperventilating, every single damn time without fail.

Harry had of course learned of this demonic curse from the first instance, and he henceforth offered all the support he could, holding Louis close when he leapt out of bed, overtaken in an anxious fit, and assuring him that it wasn’t real as many times as he had to.

Only...the only problem with that comfort was that it _was_ real. To an extent. Louis had a very real event to compare his dreams to, and the angry pulsing of his healed scar upon waking was a constant reminder of that.

But enough about that.

“Hah!” he cried, miraculously sweeping up fourteen jacks before the ball dropped and breaking the record for the night.

“Jesus, I don’t know how you do that,” Niall whined, hard-pressed to beat his own high score of eight jacks. “You have such little hands!” he reasoned, sizing his own against Louis’ to prove his point.

“I should resent that, but I don’t ‘cuz it makes me cooler,” Louis giggled, bouncing the ball against the floor as they all leaned back on their hands for a break.

The sound of a clattering pan jostled them all out of their lounging, and their heads perked up like meerkats as the vampires sprung into action. “Shit,” Louis said under his breath, his concern over Harry coming back full-force as it does every other time this happens. The sounds of referee whistles trilled outside, and the faint cacophony of running quickly followed, every able-bodied creature rushing to the main house for either protection or preparing.

“How many!” Erakus demanded, shoving his feet into his shoes as he hopped out from the hallway, a dazed but alert girl ducking under his fanned elbows as he tied his laces, a steady trickle of blood running down her recently bitten neck.

“Come here, sweetie,” Lori said, beckoning her over as she emptied her bag for a Band-Aid.

“I can’t tell,” Veronica replied from the kitchen, Harry, Zayn, and Martin bursting in from the porch, where they’d been out smoking. Harry had certainly picked that habit up more frequently lately, addicted or not. That increase said something regarding their current state of affairs.

“How many!” Erakus repeated to Harry, knowing that his senses would pick up what theirs couldn’t.

“Around thirty I think,” the Roman informed, a large coalition of immortals stuffing into the living room to have a strong grouping off the bat.

“Alright, guys. You know what to do,” William said gruffly, Veronica shutting off the gas burners of the stove because an accidental fire would be the very last thing they’d need at a time like this.

“Elijah, Niko, and Joel, you three stay inside this time,” Harry said, this larger group of enemies meaning extra safety measures for the humans inside needed to be taken.

“Harry, they’re getting bolder. The numbers are growing,” Louis said, having shot up and approached the tense immortals because his voice had a right to be heard. He was kind of/kind of not the reason the Sparrow household had to deal with these circumstances, and the attacks getting worse were starting to weigh heavily on his conscience. What if they started losing? He didn’t think he could handle that kind of second-hand guilt.

“I know,” Harry said grimly, giving Louis a blazingly quick hug and kiss before he would have to leave. His eyes seemed to speak to Louis and translate that he considered it time to move on from the Sparrow abode as well, but this conversation would have to happen later.

“Be careful,” Niall begged, both hands clutching the neck of his Batman t-shirt as Zayn sent him a confident wink.

The sixteen or so—Louis can never remember—humans assembled close together nearby the fireplace, sitting down as one and sending all of their personal prayers to their personal deities because either their vampire lover or simple friend was marching off into battle and coming back was never a sure thing.

The vampires ran out through the front door in a decently orderly fashion, the three immortals on security duty hanging back and taking up positions by the door, the living room window, and the opening of the hallway. This formation boxed in their area enough to engage intruders on all major points of entry. Now they waited…

And when the first roar was heard, every human but Louis cowered down and slapped hands over their ears, mirrored to every instance up to now. Louis’ senses were on high-alert and he didn’t see the point to showing fear—if they were going to get killed by Auron’s vampires, it would happen, whining or not. No point sweating over a fate that would inevitably come to pass if all went wrong.

His eyes shifted to the window behind Elijah (Erakus's eldest brother), squinting as if he could maybe make out parts of the fight from the small gap in the curtains, but of course that was impossible with the darkness of night that currently encompassed the outdoors. He ran through a checklist in his mind of all the times this has happened, and there _still_ wasn’t a pattern or schedule to this madness; Auron’s lackeys struck whenever the Elder randomly told them to, and it always broke expectations. Whenever they prepared for an attack, it wouldn't happen, but the second they let their guard down, there the bastards were.

The sounds of grunts and screams penetrated the humans’ ears as they slow-cooked in the tense limbo of uncertainty, growing increasingly concerned because they could all pick out the specific voice boxes of their struggling lovers.

“They sound like they're having a hard time out there,” Niall whispered fearfully into Louis’ ear, keeping the notice private so they wouldn't incite a room-wide panic.

Louis nodded and leaned into the blonde, cupping a hand over his ear to be extra exclusive. “This group is older than usual,” he informed, a particular tingle in his gut telling him he was right—probably due to the advantage of Alexander’s vampiric senses that tied in with his soul.

“Let’s hope they’re still no match,” Niall grumbled, his nail-biting getting excessive as his front teeth took off a layer of skin from his cuticles.

“They’re not,” Louis assured, the two falling into silence again as they listened to the gruesome and distinct sounds of combat.

It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes; none of the humans had kept track of the time, but eventually the immortals of the Sparrow coven came dragging their feet back into the main house, half of their numbers remaining outside to stand guard in case they were missing a few.

Louis immediately jumped up to approach Harry, but his hand flew to his mouth in horror when he got a look at why the group was dragging their feet. Martin.

“Clear the couch!” Harry shouted, a few select humans discarding all of the embroidered pillows from the cushions and darting out of the way.

“Baby?” Tanner gasped, his knees shaking as Martin was practically carried to the couch.

“He’ll be alright,” Harry soothed at once, depositing Martin’s broken body onto the fluffy couch seats and patting Tanner on his hunched shoulder.

“What happened?” the frizzy-haired boy demanded, dropping to his knees and keeping his hands to himself because Martin was wheezing in pain and he didn’t want to make it worse.

“Couple of those fucks circled him at one point and struck out at once before we could get them off of him. His ribs got shattered, and it’s gonna take them a while to heal. But they will! In about twenty minutes, so don’t worry,” Zayn said, cradling his Niall’s head under his chin while he inhaled the sweet scent of his blonde hair.

“You’re beautiful when you cry,” Martin suddenly groaned to his beloved human, forcing an impressive reach of his arm to wipe the tears from Tanner’s cheeks.

“Shut up, Martin. Just shut up,” Tanner laughed through the distress, planting a starved kiss on the butler’s lips because at least those weren’t broken.

Conversation soon broke out among everyone at once, the last half of immortal fighters power-walking into the house and shutting the door behind them. Louis saw William and Veronica whispering heatedly to each other by the kitchen archway, Elijah and Niko meticulously checking their brother Era's pale face for any injuries, and Lori fluttering around like a hummingbird in search of things she could helpfully offer or retrieve for anyone, and Louis couldn’t help the gnawing feeling that crept up inside him: this was his fault.

“They were older, weren’t they?” he asked when Harry had backed away from Martin’s makeshift hospital bed, the Roman meeting his inquisitive gaze and nodding curtly. Louis’ expression fell into one of fret, and he let his eyes wander to the whole group again, glad at least that every couple was celebrating being reunited, and nobody was damned with mourning one of the lost. These vampires were still too good for any of them to be “lost” to anything, but would that always remain true? Would the attackers keep growing in age and experience the longer they stayed?

“Meeting!” William bellowed out of nowhere, his eyes making a wide scoop across the whole room to say that every immortal was involved in this one. William’s Father and Mother, Kyösti and Lotta, stood beside him, their old and leathered faces ridged with aggravation. No one was happy—no one was safe.

The vampires in the living room kissed their humans and adhered to the call, Harry sighing and hanging back with Louis until they had cleared out.

“Represent me in there,” Martin said feebly, Tanner’s continuous palm swiping over his forehead almost lulling him to sleep.

“You got it, Revolutionary,” Harry replied, his fondness for his hearty and courageous butler softening his voice. “I’ll be right back, my love,” he added to Louis’ temple, giving it a fleeting kiss before joining the compacted circle that wrapped around the oval table in the den.

Louis rubbed two leaden hands up the sides of his face, putt-putting air from his closed lips like a horse while he fluffed his hair. He interlocked his fingers and set his palms atop his head, his face turning to Martin and Tanner as they faintly murmured to each other.

_What if I'd inadvertently killed Martin?_

Niall suddenly sprawled out on his back in the middle of the floor in exasperation, and Louis turned from Martin and Tanner to smile at him in understanding. Lori, Amberly, and then almost everyone else copied the movement because they’d all overdosed from stress, and Louis was so close to joining them.

He would have...but that was unfortunately the moment when he felt it—the unmistakable jerk of Auron’s bite on his neck. His left hand slapped over it as he focused every fibre of his being on that area of his body, Niall’s sharp gaze locking onto the movement and configuring what it meant.

Louis’ mismatched eyes widened and he jolted again, the warm spread of pleasure seeping from the outline of his scar to his face and chest. He tore from the living room and tumbled through the kitchen as though he were drunk, amazed he didn’t just fly straight through the glass of the den’s doors, but opened them normally instead.

Every head turned to him like they’d smelled his fear, and considering these were vampires, they probably had. It was Harry who broke the still picture of the moment, his eyes jumping from Louis’ terrified face to the hand clenched over the side of his neck. He knew what lay beneath.

Harry couldn’t feel the presence of his twin yet, but if Louis’ mark was acting up and causing an unignorable ruckus, that meant he would soon—and just like clockwork, the hint of his own twisted scent filtered into his nose. And not just his brother. Disregarding the fresh batch of twenty-five or so adult immortals he could sniff out, at least five distinguished Elders were with him too, and they were mere _minutes_ out from reaching the houses, racing through the towering forests of Tahoe en route to cause utter destruction.

The surrounding immortals were plagued with trepidation from both Harry and Louis’ behavior, but Zayn comprehended precisely what it meant; he only had to make absolute sure. “It’s your brother, isn’t it?” he asked, William and Veronica gasping into their hands as their three sons placed their hands on their parents’ shoulders.

Harry grimaced under the blow of the correct assumption, sharing a short but meaningful look with his petrified Louis, and then barked his orders. “Zayn! Get to a telephone and call Harlock. He and Jenner need to be here as soon as they possibly can. We’re fighting this out until the end, and then we’re fucking leaving this place, we’ve officially overstayed our welcome,” he ordered, the Pakistani staggering out of his chair to pass Louis and run to the phone in the hallway. 

“Elijah, Niko, and Erakus, get all the humans into that basement right now, every immortal hand needs to be in this,” he continued, pulling Louis in close so he wouldn’t leave with the black-haired brothers just yet. “William, Veronica, and of course Kyösti and Lotta, all you need to do is forgive me for this. I will defend this place to my death, and I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this position,” he stated formally, holding his true sorrow back because this was the time for action, not emotion.

“How long do we have?” William asked, locking determined eyes with every one of his dearest friends that filled the room, wordlessly confirming with each individual that they were heroically ready for anything.

Harry and Louis both pondered the question, turning to their unique sets of senses to get an accurate reading, both simultaneously grunting out a sharp, “Three minutes.”

 

\---

 

That was the longest three minutes of Louis’ life. After giving up trying to hold Martin back from the upcoming fight, he had helped herd all the Sparrow humans to the next building over to reach the basement hidden under a bed in one of the bedrooms, but “hidden” was a relative term when it came to vampires. He'd made sure that each person made it down before himself, and now he was the last to go.

“I'll keep you safe, I promise,” Harry vowed, smashing a kiss onto Louis’ lips and transmitting his pressurized emotion.

“Don't worry about me,” Louis scolded, forcibly pushing his immortal away before he'd reel him in instead. “Destroy him,” he urged, whipping around and bolting down the stairs before he stormed out the front door. _You're not a vampire anymore, Louis,_ he reminded to himself, repeating it like a mantra the whole way down.

The hatched slammed down after him as he jumped off the last step, and Niall flicked their trusty flashlight on that he'd grabbed at the earliest convenience. Nobody seemed to have anything to say, so the blonde set the flashlight down on the concrete, its blinding beam fanned out toward the ceiling, illuminating every horrified face in an eerie, translucent glow.

They collectively sat in a circle around their light source as though it had been choreographed, every knee in every human too shaky to support their weight on. Once they'd tucked their ankles in underneath their legs, and all their discomforted shifting had ceased, they could finally hear the terrorizing sounds of battle. And they really wish they couldn't.

Louis had grown accustomed, especially when the countless wars he'd fought in as a King were considered, but this was different. This was Hadrian out there with a bunch of Elders; this was Hadrian fighting _for_ him while he himself could do nothing. While he cowered in a basement and hoped for the best.

Regardless of his inner turmoil, Louis was still “content” to sit obediently and let Harry fight the battle _he_ certainly couldn't, but that all changed when he felt it. Auron’s mark. And not the usual rolls of taunting pleasure, either.

It was pain.

Louis stayed perfectly still, refusing to acknowledge the brutal temptation the mark was dangling in front of him like a hundred dollar bill on a fishing line. The excruciating urge to leave. See, the pain in his bite wasn't due to any kind of stabbing, burning, or any other common term used to describe pain, no...it felt like if Louis didn't bend to the mark’s will, it would rip out of his neck.

Every nerve-ending in his body seemingly rushed to the center of the bite, leaving everything behind numb and weightless. The indescribable pull of the scar slightly bared his neck and it almost damn near yanked him all the way off the ground before he gathered the strength to lurch away from the sensation.

But then it came back. With a vengeance, mind you. The merciless craving to cure the panicking mark’s wishes increased to a fatal level of urgency, its temptations cruelly whispering out to him as they offered the solution to his torment: _Follow me. Go this way._

Louis was sweating now, his shoulders cramping as he tried to keep his chin down and stay right where he was. Was the mark pulling him to Auron? Did it want Auron back? _Do I want Auron back?_

His body missed Auron dearly, and he could bravely admit that travesty. No point in denying it. But he wouldn't give in, either. Auron could keep screaming at him via endorphin addiction all he wanted, and Louis would never move from this spot.

“Louis, are you okay?” Niall whispered, his face wary and concerned.

_Damn. Is it that obvious?_

“Yeah, I'm fi—” He would have said “fine” and though he'd been struggling, he'd been close enough...but now he _really_ wasn't. He grunted in pain and doubled over from the latest blow of harsh demands, the feeling of being torn apart at the neck tripling in an instant. Auron wasn't fucking around anymore.

“Louis?” Niall whined, all nearby heads turning to him to find out what the issue was.

Louis slipped further and further away from himself, his mind so desperate to be controlled that it was taking the first steps of its own accord. He forgot all about what he was in a basement for, and what was going on outside of it. All he knew was that he needed to leave. Now.

He stood up and stumbled to the stairs that were just barely lit up from the flashlight, knocking his knees into people’s shoulders without registering what the blockages even were. He made it to the second step before his arms were caught by Martin and Tanner, and he rounded on them like they were his enemies (right now, they were) that sought to do him harm.

“Unhand me,” he snarled, thrusting his elbows forward to shake their hands off.

“Louis, where are you going?” Niall demanded, reaching out to grasp Louis’ arm again.

Louis saw Lori and a couple other humans standing to approach him as well, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fight off all of these humans at once, so he did the unthinkable.

He socked Niall right in the face.

He hit hard across his cheek with a closed fist, and the blonde was knocked off track with an affronted cry. Tanner immediately heeded to Niall’s side and cradled his face while he took a good look at the freshly reddened skin of his cheekbone, and Louis had used that time to race up the stairs.

“Louis, wait!” Tanner begged, torn between looking after the groaning Niall and chasing after Louis.

Louis didn't look back. He held his arm out to catch the top of the hatch so he wouldn't unhelpfully knock himself out, but when he finally got there, it only opened far enough to fit his arms through. “Shit,” he complained, realizing the bed had been scooted back over the trap door before the vampires had left.

 _This wouldn't even help,_ he griped, his muscles flexing harder than they ever had in his life as he lifted the bed with the hatch regardless, manic to escape because he heard the first few steps of someone ascending the staircase. _No. You won't stop me._

He grit his teeth and shoved with everything he had, his adrenaline leading the way as he channeled one of the many legendary women who have lifted cars off their children. He twisted himself around to face the ceiling, getting one hand out to push on the springboard while he kept the other on the door to keep it off his body.

The footsteps got closer and he scrambled out like the person was a ravenous monster hellbent on eating his intestines, wrangling his legs out of the gap and slamming the door down, the one arm still holding up an entire bed screaming in protest as its muscles were probably tearing under the stress.

The hatch was attemptedly opened, but he heard a shout of “We can't!” from below, and apparently his chaser reluctantly let it go. He let out a short breath of relief and distributed the heavy bed to his second arm, butt-scooting his way out until he could finally drop the heavy frame. It landed with a thunk, and his overworked arms were definitely feeling it now, but he didn't care.

He unlocked the bedroom door and tore down the hall, slipping around the corner as he made a beeline for the back door that separated the kitchen from the woods behind it. He didn't know how he knew where to go, he just did. His scar was a desperate compass right now, and he knew he'd find its maker this way.

He crossed the kitchen in four wide leaps, throwing the door open and pounding his feet outside, the sounds of a bloody altercation on the other side of the house floating over the roof and beating into his ears, but he had no senses for anything else as soon as the immortal in control was finally found.

There in the shadows of the trees, hidden by the shade from the moonlight, was Auron. The hypnotic, spellbinding, irresistible Auron, silently calling out to him with the compelling glint in his eyes. _Is this how I die?_

“Come to me,” the twin Elder whispered through the wind, stepping out into the clearing and holding a ringed hand out in invitation.

They both heard the pained roar of “ _Louis, don't!”_ from Hadrian, and Louis was so close to breaking free, but Auron strengthened his delicious compulsion, successfully drowning out the sound of his brother from reaching his prey’s ears. Hadrian was extremely preoccupied right now, accredited to Auron’s Elder friends he'd called upon for this mission, and that left him with the dazed Alexander for his taking, but he still needed to do this quickly.

“Come,” he urged again, inching closer as he listened closely to Hadrian’s brawl. He had half a mind to ask why Hadrian had called Alexander ‘Louis,’ but he'd also learned that Hadrian went by ‘Harry’ these days, and most people knew himself as ‘Bastion,’ so it wasn't particularly surprising.

Louis shuffled his scraped way across the forest floor to reach the incubus of his dreams, his shaky hand reaching out to shorten the distance before they would finally touch. Auron flashed a fanged smile at him and his vision blurred, forcing himself onward until he'd finally slid his hand into Auron’s.

The moment contact had been established, his mark’s insistence of pain ebbed away into mind-numbing bliss, and Auron pulled him in by the wrist until he was smashed against his chest, his other hand coming up to hold his fluffy-haired head. “That's a good boy,” he cooed, kissing Alexander’s forehead and snaking his arms around his back to hold him close. “I've missed you.”

(Another thundering “ _Auron!”_ from the distance).

“Please,” Louis begged, clawing at Auron’s chest as he tilted his head back.

“Have you missed me?” Auron asked, knowingly wasting precious time as he did so. He couldn't help it. Teasing humans was his favourite thing in the whole world. Right after killing them, of course.

“So much,” Louis replied, rutting against the Elder until his desire boiled over the rim of his teapot self, climbing up Auron’s body and wrapping his legs around the vampire’s torso, reverently running his hands over every inch of his face and hair. “I missed you so much.”

“Am I in your dreams?” the vampire inquired hopefully, ever so curious as to the content of those otherworldly encounters that he unfortunately hadn’t been present for.

“Every night,” Louis affirmed, crashing his lips against Auron’s with practiced ease, kissing him deeply and impetuously as though they’d done it for years until he had to break away to breathe, Auron’s eyes opening with a thrill as he grinned at his submissive and stolen possession.  

“Mmm that's what I like to hear,” Auron moaned in delight, hiking Alexander up in his arms while he scented at his neck, going for the opposite side to add one more, final scar. “Sorry I have to kill you this time—but I'll take you to heaven first. You deserve it. Gods, I always loved you,” he purred just to finally admit it, licking at his fangs and almost vibrating with anticipation.

“ _AURON!”_

Hadrian nerve-rackingly broke free of his captors, but Auron dug his teeth in at an equal speed, now desperate to finish the job before his brother could reach him. Alexander screamed in rapture from winning the euphoric rush of his most coveted fix, and he sagged helplessly as he marinated in nirvana, but the twin knew he wouldn't get his kill in tonight—he'd stalled far too long. Hard not to, but it had been his undoing. Oh well...always next time. The flying form of Hadrian then pummeled into his side, knocking him away from his prey at such an angle that he hadn't been able to stay lodged and take the throat with him, and he hissed in annoyance.

Harry zeroed in on his quickly recovered twin and stalked forward with purpose, taking in the sight of his skewed reflection after all the centuries apart. “Prepare yourself for a hellish death, Auron. How I've _waited_ for this momen—”

“I wouldn't!” Auron shouted, rapidly jabbing his finger at Louis as the five earlier Elders descended on him in a tight circle, poised to strike all at once unless Harry did exactly what Auron asked.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his every fibre snapping as he succumbed to the gnawing trap of ultimatum. He wouldn't lose Louis to kill his brother instead. He wouldn't lose to Auron again. Not this time. He looked over his shoulder to see the harrowing sight of Louis convulsing on the ground, swiping his nails across his bleeding neck to force Auron’s endorphins deeper down into him.

“Pitiful, aren't they?” Auron mused, Harry snapping his head back to glare his twin down with pure hatred. “But so _so_ beautiful,” he continued, meeting Alexander’s teary eyes and giving him a sweet smile.

“Don't even look at him,” Harry snarled, taking a thoughtless step toward his smirking brother to finally rip his head off.

“Please, I've done far more than that… And you make one more move, I'll have them rip him apart,” Auron snapped, grinning when Hadrian froze like a statue. They both knew the Elders would get to Alexander before Hadrian could—he was trapped.

“Auron!” Louis suddenly screeched in agony, pathetically crawling across the forest floor to get through the stranger’s legs and reach the fangs he'd lost.

“Sorry, pet. This is goodbye for now,” Auron lamented, his smug expression boring through Hadrian’s narrowed eyes and straight into his brain. He was playing with fire, but he knew his brother well. If Hadrian had nothing to lose, Auron would have been dead minutes ago...but Hadrian had _everything_ to lose. His priorities would always be topped by those he loved, and it was the most debilitating and foolproof weakness he’d always or would ever have. Something like love meant nothing to Auron, but it would bring Hadrian to his knees every single time. His one and only downfall, and _shit_ was it a big one.

“Auron, _please_. I need you,” Louis sobbed, yelping when his reaching arm was kicked back by immortal legs.

“Don't touch him,” Harry roared to the Elders, his heart breaking as Louis only had eyes for his brother. He knew where Louis’ heart lay, and that was with him, but Auron’s lure and bites had destroyed Louis—reduced to him to a fiending fang whore, and for that, Auron would meet a sour end. But it didn't look like that would be tonight.

“Oh dear...I'm quite the home-wrecker, aren't I?” Auron chuckled, snapping his fingers to bring the Elders to his sides, just as a blonde and black-haired pair of immortals came tumbling around the corner of the house.

“Louis!” the blonde gasped, him and the other vampire jumping protectively in front of him, while Harry remained precisely where he was, trying to set Auron on fire with his eyes.

“You have to know I'm killing you someday,” Harry growled, almost incredulous that Auron still had this illogical fantasy that he would evade that fate forever.

“Not tonight, little brother,” Auron quipped with an air of finality, emitting a sharp whistle through his teeth to pull his forces back. “Until next time—”

“Wait!” Harry shouted, his menacing brother slowly turning back around to face him.

“Yes, my righteous twin?” he purred diabolically, meeting Louis’ eyes again to give him more waves of torment, laughing because not one single vampire on Hadrian’s side could help him.

Harry ignored the senseless act of abuse to the best of his ability, staying nailed to his track of interrogation. “Why are you involved with Azazel? What could he possibly have to do with you?” he demanded, unnerved by the delighted smile that lit up his twin’s face. _Louis was right._

“So you know about that?” Auron laughed, turning away once more and strutting into the forest, wholly confident that he wouldn't be followed no matter what he said. Might as well tell some truth at this point. “You didn't think you were the _only_ one who has Azazel for a maker, did you?”

And like that, he was gone. Every trace of his small army vanished deep into the night. Harry stared at the space he'd last seen his brother for several weighted seconds, grappling with the paralyzing concept that he'd somehow missed the fact that him and his twin brother shared a single maker. Something that should have been insanely easy for Hadrian to detect. Did he really just not pay attention?

He slipped into a quick flashback of his entire life up until this point, recalling every detail of Azazel, his turning, and the point in time when he'd discovered Auron was immortal too. To his knowledge, Auron had turned first, and he'd been turned overseas some odd months later. Auron had been gone for a long time before Harry had sailed for Dokos, and he'd later learned his brother had returned to Rome days after his disappearance. The disappearance that had led him into a cell with their maker. Azazel had obviously never mentioned turning his damn twin right before him...did that mean...this was all intentional? Did Azazel turn Harry on _purpose_? For _what_ purpose?

What the fuck does this mean? _How didn't he know?_

The sound of Louis’ sobbing pulled him away from his Azazel turmoil, and his face was wracked with pain at the sight of his Louis, neck deep in an excruciating withdrawal of endorphins.

“Make it stop!” Louis shrieked to any and all the immortals around him, Martin and Zayn parting wordlessly to let Harry take care of him.

“Louis? Louis, look at me,” Harry cooed in a dramatically contrasting tone from the one in his head, setting aside his personal thoughts and feelings to give Louis the very best of aftercare.

“H-Harry, I c-can’t, I'm s-so sorry,” Louis choked, his words punching out like morse code.

“I know, baby, I know,” Harry assured, shooing Zayn and Martin away with a harsh jab of his finger over Louis’ shoulder. The vampires nodded solemnly and ran off, likely to devour their unharmed humans with affection.

“I don’t—don’t love him, I p-promise!” Louis wailed, his neck itching like he'd rubbed ten pounds of poison oak onto his skin. When his wrists were captured by Harry so he couldn't scratch, he resorted to tucking his chin down and trying to graze the bite with the collar of his bloodied shirt.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry whispered roughly, hooking his legs under Louis’ sprawled ones and pulling him forward by the hips until he was sat on his lap, his legs sticking straight out behind Harry’s back. He then grabbed his face and fended off his wandering arms, shaking him to command his attention. “Look at me,” he urged, his tone suggesting that he wasn't being confrontational, but also wouldn't take no for an answer.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, reveling in the short pause from reality he was allotted, taking in and cherishing every second of pure black behind his eyelids before he would focus on Harry’s face—thereby admitting this life was real. He took the final step and met Harry’s unreadable eyes, the undertones behind his forefront expression of empathy sending shivers down Louis’ spine. Harry was livid. “Please don't be mad at me,” he sniveled, his fists clenching on Harry’s shoulders.

“Louis, I'm not mad at you, alright? Come on, we've talked about this. Yes, it hurts, but don't you remember what I told you? Huh?” the vampire soothed, his hands light as feathers as they caressed Louis’ trembling skin. “Go on, what did I say?” he encouraged, wistful over the times when he didn't have to consistently pick up the pieces of a broken lover.

Louis slowed his breathing to match Harry’s rubs up and down his arms, the immortal no doubt nurturing that reaction intentionally to help calm him down. “You said that your only fight was with Auron,” Louis recited, this conversation lining closely with all the other fit cooldowns they'd had so far, only this one was much higher on the scale of intensity. This hadn't been a dream.

“What else, baby?” Harry pressed, using the method of words to lessen the human’s anxiety before he would need to apply a physical solution. It was best for all of them if Louis was able to be simply talked off the ledge, but the forcing of peace was always a plan B in the background.  

“Uh...that it's not my fault?” Louis guessed, disappointed that he couldn't remember the phrases Harry had been grilling into him every stressful morning for two whole weeks.

“That's right,” Harry confirmed, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind Louis’ ear and letting his fingertips trail down his cheek.

Louis fought his instincts as though they were in a match to the death with him, his hands afflicted by the potent craving to claw at his fresh bite—not to mention the fierce desire to protect it from Harry’s offensive scrutinization.

Unfortunately he lost that battle. He retracted his hands from Harry’s shoulders like he'd been burned and slipped them back to his own body, going to town on the stabbing pulsations of bliss on the bite and all the glory it gave to him.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Harry chanted in a low tone as he seized his wrists again, extending his fangs and letting Louis zero in on them with his tortured eyes.

“Please!” Louis cried as he caught sight of vampire teeth, scooting closer and pushing himself right up against Harry’s front. “Just make it stop.”

“It won't stop. I'll just be giving you something else, okay? Try to relax,” the immortal suggested, dipping forward and lathering Louis’ bloody marks with his saliva.

Louis’ back arched and he came hard just from getting that fix of endorphins he'd been so desperate for, cursing Auron to an afterlife of endless sorrow for reducing him to a lowly whore. He was only happy to get endorphins from Harry because they were close enough to his brother’s that it was easy to pretend he was in Auron’s arms instead. And that...is an unforgivable crime.  

“Leave me, Harry. I don't deserve you. I deserve nothing, get away from me,” Louis wailed in his weakest moment yet, half pulling Harry in closer, half shoving him away for his own good.

Harry bat Louis’ hands away and threw his weight forward, trapping Louis between his chest and the trampled Earth underneath him. “I think it's really cute how much stronger you think Auron is than me. _I am Hadrian of Rome!_ ” he suddenly roared, leaving Louis a flinching mess on the bed of pine needles. _“I was an Emperor! My brother is nothing!”_

“Harry,” Louis whimpered, his shame and anger with himself only increasing tenfold in light of getting called out.

“I am gentle with you, and I care for you, and because of that, you think I can't make you feel like Auron does. You figure me inferior to a power I have _always_ surpassed, but I'm not. I fucking own you _and_ your body. You are _mine_ , and you will _cower before me_ ,” he growled with his strongest lure in existence, ragefully slamming his fangs directly into Auron’s pre-made bite and terrorizing the recovering skin, dragging his teeth down a centimeter and replacing the flood of his brother's endorphins with his own, drinking viciously hard and fast to reenact Auron’s first assault.

Louis screamed in ecstasy as the brutality of the bite forced another climax out of him, his mind finally cleared of the menacing fog of Auron, instead overwhelmed and overstimulated by his lover, just how it should be. How it always should have been. And he really shouldn't have doubted that Harry could take him to the same level of heaven that his twin could. He should have realized that Harry held all of Auron’s power and more—Hadrian was an animal—Louis had just never seen it.

Harry pulled out after he savagely stole took a pint of blood, knowing Louis would lose his consciousness if he lost one more. He took off his shirt and held it to the overdone bite, his breathing labored as it matched Louis’ pitiful heaves. “Snap out of it, Louixander. You know who I am,” he said coldly, lifting himself off the ground and pretending to walk away to seal the trap.

“Harry,” Louis whined broken-heartedly, one hand keeping the good smelling shirt in place over his bite, the other reaching out for Harry’s retreating form. “Come back,” he pleaded, beckoning him with all his strength.

“I don't know that you want me to,” Harry mused neutrally. He was goading Louis to the furthest degree possible, and any other time this system probably wouldn't have worked, but Louis wasn't in his right mind at all; he couldn't see how far he was being played.

“I do!” Louis protested, squirming as he tried to sit up, or at least crawl his way to his vampire. “Harry, Auron is nothing to me! It's _you_ I want. You I _love_! I’d never want anything or anyone else besides you, are you kidding?! I reincarnated myself over and over and over and _over again_ to get back to you, how _dare_ you—”

Louis didn't get a chance to finish his incredulous and groveling rant because Harry ran back to him in a flash, dropping to his knees and throwing his arms around him in a tight and suffocating embrace. “My dear sweet lover,” he whispered, planting his lips on wherever they were closest to Louis’ cheek. “I know. I know you love me. I know it's us. It's you and me, baby, I know.”

Harry continued his beautifully redundant comforts, and Louis felt like he could finally breathe again. He was soon able to stop crying, and when only occasional sniffles remained, Harry pulled back to gaze down at him.

“Can I take you inside, love?” the vampire asked, languidly rising onto his feet with Louis clutching onto him like a frightened feline.

Louis cleared his throat just to nod, and Harry chuckled as he traveled around the side of the building, following everyone’s scents until he pegged them all inside the main house. He only had to walk up the porch steps before Zayn and Niall flung the front door open, but Louis wasn't ready for that kind of company yet, and Harry understood this well. “Back off, guys. He needs only me right now.”

“Is he okay?” Niall whimpered, a bag of frozen peas gingerly held to his right cheek, right below his eye.

“He's alright,” Harry assured, eyebrows coming together as he took in Niall’s condition. “Did he hit you?”

Niall’s eyes flew downcast and he shuffled his weight between two antsy feet. He wasn't angry over Louis’ attack in the slightest, but he didn't want Harry to be instead.

“I hurt Niall?” Louis asked in a tiny voice, cowering further into Harry’s chest to block out everyone else. He vaguely remembered being in the basement and climbing the stairs, but it all went fuzzy after that, and the only thing he’d been able to spare a thought on was Auron. _Why am I so weak?_

“Louis isn't quite himself at the moment. But we're not mad at him, are we?” Harry cooed into Louis’ hair, encouraging Niall to play along regardless of whatever he felt inside his head.

“I'm not mad at all! I swear!” Niall stressed, jumping out of the way when Harry stepped over the threshold.

“Harry! What do we do?” William asked, stopping short with Veronica and Erakus when they rounded the corner. Every other resident in the living room zoomed in on them too, and Harry could only shrug.

“He gets himself into a lot of scuffs,” William noted sympathetically, Lori blatantly holding herself back from running over and offering assistance.

“All he needs is a bed,” Harry continued as if he hadn't heard the accurate comment; he'd only come inside to plan for the near future, not accept well wishes from those who were neither Louis nor himself. This was a private matter.

“Is Auron coming back? What just happened?” Veronica wondered, the safety of her Sparrow birds peaked at the top of her worry list.

“No, not tonight. He lost his chance. He knows if he comes back, he'll die. Now that it's known he can lure Louis out of hiding, Auron has already concluded we’d take every precaution possible to lock Louis down the next time, and he’d be right,” he said, ignoring every single meep of distress he heard near his collarbones.

“So what's the plan?... Harlock answered the call and he's on his way with Jenner,” Zayn informed from the kitchen archway, one arm around Niall, the other around Martin.

Harry looked to him and nodded, formulating every next step in order, ruling out the reckless things until he found the best options. “We all wait until Harlock arrives. We need his ability to walk in the sunlight. We need to get sleep now while they're flying, and when they get here, we all that came here are leaving.”

“Okay, but where?” Martin asked, running his fingers through Tanner’s dandelion hair while the human was sitting with his back against the archway edge, his arms lazily wrapped around the butler’s leg.

Harry hiked Louis up in his arms and spun around to return to the side house and into his and Louis’ room that they'd lived in for the last two weeks. “New York City,” he announced, stepping out onto the creaky porch and leaving everyone behind to contemplate his decision—though it wasn't much of a debate. They were going.

He hurried to the seclusion of their bedroom because Louis needed attention and he hadn't gotten any substantial amounts of it yet. He managed to squeeze through the front door and down the hall, swinging the bedroom door open with his elbow and kicking it closed. He then laid Louis on the disheveled sheets and turned on the lamp that sat atop the side table so the human could see.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and then guardedly re-opened them, just as Harry was walking back inside from evidently collecting medical supplies. The vampire sat down beside him and gently guided the soiled shirt away from his bites, wincing when Louis did because he didn't even want to imagine how sensitive the flesh was right now. Louis’ body was currently locked in an internal jousting match with the two differing endorphins that had entered it, and though Harry was sad for him, he wouldn't have done anything else in that position. Adding his chemicals in rebuttal was the best thing for Louis’ mind, even if it had caused havoc within his body. He honestly should've done it the first time, but it had been too late by then.

He dabbed at the lacerations and bandaged his abused neck, tearing the roll of gauze off where it was necessary and reaching back around to tie it into a little knot. He set all the supplies to the right on the table and threw his dirtied shirt on top, sighing as he caressed Louis’ forehead.

Louis had seemed on the edge of sleep, but when Harry’s hand began its stroking, his eyes flew opened and he peered up at him vulnerably, one of his hands coming over to grasp the immortal’s clothed thigh. “What is it, baby?” Harry asked, bending down so their faces were inches apart.

“I know you said...I would cower before you, Harry...but I'm—not afraid...” Louis said weakly, his vampire snorting and dropping his forehead onto his chest, hands sliding up and down Louis’ arms as he laughed onto his perpetually inflating sternum.

“I don't actually want you to fear me, Louis. I never want you to be afraid. Not around me. I'm supposed to protect you, not scare you,” Harry sighed, planting kisses back and forth across Louis’ mounded collarbones. “Besides...I don't think the Alexander in you would let me incite that feeling. You’d probably end up punching me in the face before giving in to fear,” he theorized, earning a small chuckle from Louis, but in his state, that tiny laugh was like a cackle. And a very good sign.

“I need you right now,” Louis admitted shyly, keeping his eyes on the ceiling until he gathered the courage to look his vampire straight in the emerald eyes.

“Anything, Lou,” was Harry’s immediate response, his caresses traveling all around Louis’ exhausted frame. “What is it, my beauty? Tell me. You can ask anything of me. What do you want me to do?”

Louis smiled bashfully and held Harry’s impassioned face in his hands, subtly parting his legs and letting Harry take notice of his intention. “I want you to make love to me...like I'm made of glass,” he whispered, Harry’s eyes sparkling as understanding flashed within them.

“Oh, Louis,” the vampire breathed, repeating the gesture of the touches on his face and smoothing his fingertips down Louis’ cheekbone, placing his lips onto Louis’ with the utmost gentlest of pressures. Louis whimpered into the kiss and Harry immediately put the vulnerable request into action, unable to keep his lover from receiving the romantic connection he so desperately craved.

“ _Yes_ , Louis,” he soothed as he fully undressed his lover, ensuring that every brush of skin between them was tender and silken as he wrapped one careful hand under Louis’ knee, languidly pushing it up to expose the delectable hole that he’d take sweet, slow, and sensitive care of until the sun came up. “Of course I’ll make love to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the comments I got on my last chapter are spot on. You all had the right idea, and the correct desire/solution to their troubles. But like I said at the top, you are justttt going to have to trust I know what I'm doing. I wouldn't leave you hanging...too long ;)


	15. All Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter, this was one of the most fun chapters to write! I loved every second of it, I hope you do too.

“Where is he?” Jenner asked Niall, having just shown up with Harlock at midnight after getting out of that god-awful Lake Tahoe Airport and driving deeper into the piney mountains in a rush.

“He’s in his room right now,” Niall said, beginning to gesture in the direction of the second boarding house when Zayn gently lowered his hand down.

“Wait a second, we don’t know if Harry wants anyone back there,” Zayn informed, his gaze falling over Niall’s head to the furiously whispering Harry and Harlock, not outright attempting to listen in on their conversation out of respect.

The two Elders coincidentally concluded their fervid talk and quickly approached the door, Zayn backing Niall and Jenner up so that they could slip through the archway. Martin and Tanner perked up from their huddled position by the fireplace when Harry entered with Harlock, finally standing and joining in to form the old group of eight, minus Louis of course.  

“Is Harlock coming with us to New York City?” the butler asked his former master, the term “former” being applied because he hadn’t dusted any shelves for him in quite some time. Been a bit busy, if you hadn’t noticed.

“Yes, of course,” Harlock assured for the pensive Harry, Jenner grinning in pride to hear the verdict. His vampire’s dependability and willingness to accept rough expeditions no matter the personal cost was a highly attractive attribute that he inherently kept. Harlock didn’t specifically go out of his way to be helpful and valuable to any particular causes—he just was by default. It was rather that he would end in flames and dust before he’d forsake his cherished friends in times of turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” Harry lamented with his head hung low, evoking instant heartache from Jenner; it was tough for the warlock to see someone so strong crumble under so much pressure. Auron being involved in all of this mess was likely sparking a wide variety of emotions within the good-hearted brother, and Harry was not in any way expected to hold it all together—he just was.

“Please don’t worry yourself with our trials. It was no inconvenience for us to fly back because Auron finally upped his tentative game of tag-no-take-backs,” Harlock sneered, harboring nothing but hatred for the sniveling Roman that shared a face he didn’t deserve.

“How do you even know about that game... _and_ the secret circumstantial rule?” Niall implored, somehow putting that tiny mention above all else on the list of important matters. Sometimes that is how one copes, is it not?

“I don’t actually know,” Harlock replied honestly, scratching at his chin where there _would_ be a beard if he hadn’t turned at the ripe age of twenty, and hadn’t been stuck with late-bloomer genes. “I’m nine hundred and fifty-three years old, do you think my vast memory can retain all the useless bits of information I’ve acquired over the centuries?” he chuckled, a hint of his old English accent sneaking out as it did whenever he mentioned anything regarding his past, sharing a fond look with Jenner as they silently reminisced on all the times Harlock’s memory had both saved and failed them.

“Alright, enough!” Harry snapped, his anger and impatience ten times stronger than it usually is, but there wasn’t a creature here who would hold it against him. “We have things to discuss,” he pressed, locking eyes with the thoughtful William.

“Oh right,” William said distractedly, his mind swimming within the harrowing events that had just taken place. “Meeting!” he called, guiding Veronica and their sons through the kitchen to the den. “Visiting vampires, bring your humans as well,” he added, stepping around the corner and out of sight.

All creatures began to follow after him, but Jenner had something to ask, and he grabbed the back of both Harry and Harlock’s shirts to hold them back. They turned expectantly and waited until everyone else had passed by before looking to Jenner to explain his hesitation. “I want to see Louis,” he demanded, this request moreso addressed to Harry, but his own lover should also be made privy of his potential whereabouts.

Harlock shifted his gaze to Harry and watched the gears turn in his head; the Roman immortal appeared to border on refusal, but at the last moment, he sighed and turned away, gesturing his hand behind Jenner and flicking his wrist. “He’s in the next house over, down the hall, second door on the left,” he informed, boring his eyes into Jenner’s and saying a whole bunch of things that Jenner couldn’t quite discern.

“Thank you,” Jenner breathed, kissing Harlock on his eyepatch and dashing back out the front door. He skipped down the porch steps and continuously struck unfortunate blades of grass with the soles of his sneakers, on track to find Louis and offer any meager amount of comfort he could. His mind had destroyed him on the plane ride here to California, and he needed to see Louis for himself—ensure that he was actually still alive with his own two eyes.

He entered the empty house and followed Harry’s directions, coming up to the second left door and opening it slowly as though a bomb would go off if he violently swung it ajar. He kept his whine locked inside his throat as he took in the bundle of blankets upon the full size bed, an obvious puff of Louis-hair sneaking out through the opening of the mound—a mound small enough in size to suggest Louis was curled up like a pill bug. He crossed the room and gently sat on the quilts, an unsure hand sliding down the length of the human mountain as it shifted and violently jerked under his touch.  _Maybe touching was a bad idea._

 

~~~

 

_“You're so beautiful, Alexander,” the voice said to him. The voice of pure gold commandingly parting the air to make itself heard._

_Alexander smiled, his eyes still closed as he snuggled into the pleasant brace of warm arms. His neck tingled from a recent feeding and he felt as though he was floating high above the clouds. “My beauty is common compared to yours,” he negated fondly, slowly opening his eyes to take in the beauty which he so reverently praised._

_His lover lay on his elbow and suspended above him, his graceful hand tucking his hair behind his ear as he caressed his face. They were lounged upon an artfully woven quilt in the middle of a brilliant and colourful flower field, the blazing sun prickling against their golden skin while cool breezes of wind slipped over their bodies._

_He gazed up at his lover’s spellbinding face, the curly soft hair that hung down and enclosed them in a thick curtain tickling the sides of his cheeks. The striking green eyes shone with true love and appreciation, and the full and just parted lips silently asked for little kisses to be placed upon them._

_“Alexander, you could not be common if you tried,” the seraphic being before him stressed, his radiant smile showcasing the fangs that brought on that perfect slice of bliss that Alexander so desperately craved._

_“But look at you,” Alexander reasoned, his hands tracing every line of his lover’s hypnotic face._

_“I can't see my own face,” he pointed out, chuckling into Alexander’s neck as he pulled his curvy body in closer. “It is far more important to me to view yours than my own.”_

_“Flattery will get you everywhere, Auron,” Alexander laughed, lifting his right leg and hiking it up aside Auron’s hip, the vampire catching it under the knee and lining their groins together. “Please,” he breathed, his back arching as Auron ground his hips down into his own._

_“You cannot get enough of me,” Auron noted with fierce desire, saying so because they were already coming down from making love thirty minutes prior._

_“I always need you inside me. There's nothing in the world like it,” Alexander rasped, preening when Auron rolled fully on top of him, his hand sliding up Alexander’s outer thigh to do away with the blanket he was bundled in._

_Alexander helped, snatching the heavy blanket from his torso and instead flinging it around Auron’s back, covering both of their forms and leaving only the delicious slide of skin against skin._

_“Mmm, you wear me out, Alexander,” Auron moaned, planting gentle kisses along Alexander’s chest as his left hand crept down his stomach to reach his cock. “You drive me_ _wild_ _.”_

_Alexander smiled at first, but something sparked a memory deep within him, and he strained to retrieve it all. Something wasn't right here…_

_“Wait,” he said, Auron’s hand freezing as he lifted his head to peer into his eyes._

_“What is it, my love?” the vampire asked, a tiny hint of fear in his emerald irises._

_“When have you said that before? That I drive you wild...you’ve said that before…”_

_“I tell you this all the time, Lexy,” Auron chided, starved lips returning to the human’s body._

_“Lexy…” Alexander repeated, the nickname only furthering his suspicion that something was dearly amiss with their current situation. “You used to call me by that name. But where—and when!” he whined in exasperation, his lips pursing as he gazed at the blue sky over Auron’s illuminated shoulders. “Hang on...why are we in sunlight?” he asked pointedly, starting to lose his mind within the sudden flush of inconsistency._

_“Why wouldn’t we be?” Auron reasoned, unbeknownst to the fracture that cracked across the sky, almost as if the field they were together in was breaking away to return them to reality._

_“Because it’s impossible…” Alexander said fretfully, scrambling out from under Auron’s body as he narrowed his eyes in confusion. “This isn’t real,” he accused, his wide eyes blinking drunkenly to shake off the melting of the trees around them._

_“Is our love not real?” Auron challenged, a manic twinge to his voice. He sat up on his knees to keep Alexander in place, grasping him by the shoulders and locking their eye contact, trying to hold down his control before this place disappeared. “Stay with me.”_

_Alexander stared hard into the green eyes of his one and only, some suppressed and ignored part of him screaming that they weren’t the right colour. Weren’t they? He looked closer, studying the shade and every tiny detail of the vampire’s irises. Too dark. The green was too dark. In comparison to what? Whose eyes were bright enough? These ones weren’t right...but whose were?_

_‘He has a brother,’ an unknown voice whispered within his soul, the voice either coming from himself or a God who had taken interest in his struggle for knowledge._

_He thought about the fact, trying to imagine a brother of Auron with brighter eyes and a slight difference in features. A name. Just a name to put to the theoretical brother he somehow needed to remember. “I shouldn’t be with you,” he spat, the irrefutable fact that this random brother was the one he truly loved turning his bewilderment into rage._

_“Is Hadrian’s love that strong?” Auron snarled incredulously, scoffing as he shoved Alexander away from him, the human gasping as everything came back to him._

_Hadrian. Alexander. Harry. Louis._

_An unseen hand wrapped around his upper arm and the loud calling for ‘Louis’ shot down into the serene field that held him and Auron at the center, the ground falling away into nothingness as they sat suspended on their quilt like two travelers in space. “I will never choose you!” he roared to Auron’s stoic profile, the tempting twin languidly turning his face toward him, a mischievous glint in his now so obviously_ _wrong_ _eyes._

_“See you soon, Lexy.”_

 

~~~

 

Louis woke up screaming; every nerve in his body felt inflamed and ragged, crying out for solace in the midst of a volcanic eruption. His eyes fell upon the vision of orange hair, and it only contributed to his internal world of fire. Everything was burning—especially his neck.

“Louis!” the being above him cried, eyes filled with terror as he fumbled over what to do with the shrieking human on the bed.

“What the _hell is going on here_?” Harry suddenly shouted from the doorway, his face a mixture of concern and anger.

“I—I don't know, he was j-just like this, I don't—”

“Move!” Harry commanded, Jenner leaping to the side as if he'd been flung by supernatural hands. Harry fell onto the bed and constricted his flailing lover in his arms, squeezing him painfully to try and cut off the rough jerks of his body. He had a pretty good idea what this was about; the scent of Auron’s lingering endorphins gathering at the first scar he'd made was a pretty big indicator.

Louis finally realized precisely where he was, who he was with, and what he'd just escaped, and he sobbed into Harry’s neck as Jenner took a hasty leave. “He's not gone,” he wailed, shuddering and shaking from the memory of nearly submitting to being penetrated by Auron’s undeniable body, dream or not. He’d wanted it so bad, and if Auron hadn’t slipped up and said telling things, he would have gone through with it. The dream had begun after they’d apparently already made love to each other, but he thankfully didn’t remember that part...or does he wish he did?

“I never thought it’d be over that quick,” Harry noted sadly, a heavy sigh blowing past his lips as he laid Louis down on the twisted sheets.

“What do you mean? I thought you got rid of him,” Louis whimpered, the recent instance in which Harry had brutally taken him outside on the forest floor coming to mind; he’d been so sure that Harry had destroyed every trace of Auron then, and the knowledge that he may not have was chilling. If Harry couldn’t, who could?

“It’s time for me to admit Auron might be stronger than I thought he was,” Harry bit grudgingly, shifted away from Louis so he didn’t have to look into the eyes of disappointment.

“What do you...talk to me, please,” Louis begged, sitting up and pushing himself back against the metal bed frame, hugging his knees to his chest as he fought to ignore the pulsing of Auron’s initial bite. _Not now, Auron. You had your turn._

“All these centuries, I’ve always considered Auron to be so far out of my league that he barely deserves the title of being my twin brother...and while that may be true in some respects, I’ve been ignoring the fact that no matter how I feel, he’s still an ancient Elder...and to a human, that means a lot. I didn’t expect his lure to be as powerful as mine, but him pulling you from the basement like that proved that it is indeed in sync with my personal capabilities. He’s just as dangerous as I to a human such as yourself, and my standpoint of superiority over him only hurt us in the end. I’ve been naïve,” he solemnly confessed, his face haunted with shame as he glared at the floorboards.

“No, Harry. You haven't been naïve...you've been _incredibly naïve_!” Alexander unexpectedly exploded, pushing Harry to lean away at an obtuse angle from the force of his judgment. “Auron has been trained under Azazel for two millennia! What the fuck did you think would happen to his skill and prowess? They’re two peas in a destructive pod of doom, and you’ve been crying yourself to sleep in a mansion for two-hundred of those years! Take a hard look at the past, Hadrian. You left Azazel, but Auron stayed with him—been with him this entire fucking time, and we _moved in_ with Auron. And then he _killed me_! And he’s about to do it again if we don’t fucking do something!” he bellowed, shoving Harry aside and stomping out of the room, running Jenner down in the hallway in his mad dash to the main house.

Harry ceased his non-stop cringing to follow him down, the startled Jenner righting himself and jogging right behind him, both chasing after the speedy form of Louis and entering the main house just seconds after him.

Alexander strutted into the den of discussing vampires, kicking the doors in and amazingly not shattering the glass it was paned with, boring his eyes into his original group to commence their imminent departure. “Get the fuck up out of those chairs, we’re leaving!” he announced, lifting Zayn out of his seat by the collar of his shirt.

“What the—” Zayn grunted, cut off when Harry and Jenner skidded to a halt at the top of the two steps that descended into the room.

“Alex!” Harry yelled, his aggression matching the former King’s as their eyes met in a blaze of passion.

“What! I’m about to inadvertently kill every being here! I can only handle so much guilt, Hadrian!” Alexander roared, the ear drums of every immortal present severely compromised by the volume of his commanding voice.

“Alex? Who are you talking to? That’s Louis,” Niall reasoned, his ears not as drastically affected by Louis’ screaming.

Alexander rounded on his best human friend, his aggravation unable to stay within the confines of their immediate predicament. “Kind of!” he snapped, the blonde’s eyes practically crossing as he lost himself in the audacity of that correction.

“Aléxandros ho Mégas! Would you just calm the _fuck_ dow—”

Alexander spotted a lone letter opener on the windowsill that connected the den to the kitchen, and he struck out to snatch it off the darkly polished wood, holding it proficiently and swinging it out for Harry’s throat.

“ _Jupiter_ , what the—” Harry cried, bending back to dodge the range of the makeshift weapon, “—the fuck are you doing?!”

“Turn me, Hadrian! Right now! Give me your fucking blood, or I swear to the _Gods_ I will forcefully take it from y—”

“I am not having a wee baby vampire in this house!” William shouted, the condition acting as his first contribution to the debacle. “I will not accept that unpredictability!”

“I am no wee babe!” Alexander shrieked in the highest form of offense, the Sparrow head of family blanching in unprecedented fear.

“Dear, sit down,” Veronica urged, pulling on her husband’s sleeve to drag him out of the discussion.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Zayn asked.

“Put the fucking letter opener _down_ , Alex!” Harry snarled to Alexander, flinching away from another rapid attack.

“Why does he keep calling him Alex?” Niall begged, his confused interrogations falling on deaf ears all around.

“You’re wasting time!” Alexander berated, running in a circle around the table when Hadrian reached out to capture him. They rounded it twice and finally halted at opposite sides of the oval piece of furniture, Harry between Niall and Zayn, Alexander between the William’s Mother and Father. “And when they make the first move, we’re going to be completely unprepared. Do you _want_ to fail?” he accused coldly, dashing to the left when Harry leapt over the table instead of playing by the rules of the game.

“Would both of you fucking cut it out?” Harlock demanded, standing from his seat and punching Harry in the gut when he passed to slow him down.

Harry grunted and shoved his friendly immortal back, denying the unfair impulse to catch Alexander with vampiric speed because that would only incite an atomic bomb to go off in the cramped den. Something nobody had the time or collective power for. “And you think turning _now_ would be a smart fucking idea?” the angry Roman fired back, switching directions and trying to catch Alex from the other way.

Alexander yelped and jumped up on the table, ashtrays flying as he kicked them out of the way, fiercely slashing his arm through the air to hopefully slice the skin of Hadrian’s neck with the sharp blade in his hand. One cut is all he would need—surely he could do the rest with his own strength, right? “Why fucking not? You need me! You need my old self back worse than ever, don’t you _get that_ , you pa _thetic_ coward—”

“You’re in a house of humans, you patronizing sack of shit!” Hadrian bit harshly, finally wrangling Alexander off the table and into his hold regardless of the frantic brawling he received in response. The nearest seated individuals flew away from the pair and let them wrestle on the ground, each creature in the den staring at the train wreck before them with rapt and shameless attention. “If I turned you now—” he gritted, taking hold of the letter opener and chucking it far away from the squirming and luckily human Alexander, the weapon caught by William who shoved it in his pocket, “—you’d want to kill everyone here. I know you think you’d be fine, but my blood would drive you mad for days; it wouldn’t be safe for the Sparrows!” he heavily scolded, Alexander coming to some amount of sense as he settled his merciless sparring.

“Are you saying you couldn't control me?” Alexander sneered with pride, finding one golden moment in catastrophe and clinging to it like a lifeline.

“There's no way in Hades’ _lair_ I could ever control you!” Harry confessed dubiously, marking the insinuation as obviously preposterous. “You would become far too much for even I to handle, and we cannot put the kind humans here in jeopardy.”

Alexander pouted but accepted the compliment, slinking back into the depths of Louis’ soul and pushing him into the spotlight. _He’s all yours._

Harry recognized the shift and let his lover go, Louis dazedly sitting himself up and taking a look around. “Uh...yeah…” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment as he caught the dumbfounded expressions of his friends. “Sorry about that.”

“Christ...you really are Alexander, aren’t you?” Harlock asked, beckoning Jenner over to him, who had remained in his motionless post by the double doors as the scene had played out.

“What do you think?” Harry groaned, pushing himself off the floor and helping Louis to his unsteady feet.

“... Who the _fuck_ is Alexander!” Niall screeched, wobbling on the precipice of spontaneous combustion if he didn’t get some answers.

“We’ll tell you on the ride, Niall,” Louis assured, looking first at his fuming friend, then to Harlock and Harry. “We really do need to leave.”

“Yeah, and I’m all for that, I just didn’t need you going all angry Persian on me,” Harry sighed in exasperation.

“An environment makes a man, Hadrian,” Louis said with a lingering touch of Alexander philosophy, pressing his palms together as he slightly bowed toward William, Veronica, and Erakus in consolation. “Let’s _go_ ,” he then demanded, spinning around and marching out of the battle zone to pack his things.

Harry stared after Louis until he slammed the front door behind him, his eyes falling to their hosts in chagrin. “I don’t even know where to begin…”

“Consider it over and done with, Harry,” William said gruffly, his usual personable charm knocked down a few levels on the scale.

“Did you get a new ride?” Harry asked Harlock in lieu of more apologies, having not paid a speck of attention on any new cars in the foresty car lot of the Sparrow community.

“Yeah, we did. I think you’re going to like it,” Harlock replied, Jenner snorting into his hand as he remembered the miraculous and entirely fated vehicle they’d looted from an empty landfill. Still worked too; neither of them had understood why it had been there.

“Alright...to New York City we go,” Harry muttered, stepping out of the familiar den for the last time as he debated how he would confront their ominous and ambiguous future. Apparently Alex had some ideas…

 

\---

 

“You don’t think you _maybe_ overreacted?” Harry asked from the doorway, those being his first words to Louis after the dramatic den fight of 1973.

“No, Harry, I didn’t,” Louis persisted, throwing the last of his belongings into his pack that had withstood every move so far, even after getting Marley’s bus stolen by the police. Speaking of… “Does Marley know the bus was left at the jail?” he asked, a slight pinch of guilt over the situation rising to the forefront of his mind. Marley had loved and cared for that vehicle, and they’d gotten it ripped out from under them in return.

“Harlock notified him when we told Harlock earlier. Bit furious, but he’s on his way to get it back,” Harry informed, setting to his packing duties as well because they had a lot of talking to do, but a long car ride to get it all out.

“I still can’t believe that happened,” Louis whined, his whole flow of thought getting frantically severed by his sensible self before he would recount the entire spectrum of events that had occurred after getting thrown into the cop car, thereby spending a good chunk of time focused on Auron and what the deathly attractive immortal had consistently done to him. Nope nope nope.

“Let’s just put our efforts into getting to New York,” Harry urged, waltzing around the room and double checking everything had been emptied from their borrowed shelves and cases.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Louis seconded, tossing his clunky suitcase through the doorway as he threw his arms into the straps of his backpack. “I am sorry for blowing up on you, though,” he reluctantly admitted, much preferring to have this dealt with now before he was scolded over it in the near future.

“It’s okay, Louis. You only want what’s best for everyone, I know that,” Harry assured, striding over to plant a quick kiss to Louis’ temple. “Now come on. We got another arduous close-quartered journey ahead of us that involves even more creatures than the last one,” he groaned, still pondering what this accommodating vehicle would be—they had eight people this round...surely Harlock had grabbed something that could sustain that head count...

“We should go north,” Louis suggested, walking down the hallway and out the door to the bonfire that normally lit up the center of the houses, though it had been stamped out and forgotten after the latest attack.

“I agree,” Harry belatedly replied, juggling three bags in his arms while he tried to glance around them to gaze at Louis.

“Uh…” Louis drawled, dropping his bags onto the forest floor as he got a good look at the supposed vehicle. A school bus. An actual, full length, grey spray-painted school bus. “Of course,” he said with a shrug, dropping his bags off near the folding entrance door and turning when the sounds of their company filed out of the main house. “What are you guys waiting for? Go pack,” he said with a swish of his arm, smiling as their pace increased by one little notch of speed.

Niall merely glared at him as he passed, the look chock-full of incredulous betrayal. He clearly didn’t appreciate being left out on this “Alexander” business, but nobody had possessed the time to sit him down and explain it all...especially when Louis and Harry didn’t completely understand it yet themselves. But the blonde was right—he did have a right to at least know the uncovered facts they’d gathered up to this point.

Harlock and Jenner came out last, their belongings already packed and ready to go in the bus. They approached the preposterous vehicle and motioned to it as if to say “Want a tour?” and Louis couldn’t deny he was curious. He nodded his head and Harlock pushed the sticky door open, leaping up the four steep steps to enter and disappearing inside. Jenner went next and beckoned Harry and Louis in afterward, the couple hopping up the same steps and taking their first look inside their new home for the time being.

It was everything. Whomever had owned this bus previously had clearly put an insane amount of work into transforming it into a home. Why they’d lost it or disposed of it was a suspicious mystery if it had no problems with the engine. In contrast to the bus benches that usually lined the length of such a transport vehicle, long rows of couch material sat instead atop a carpeted floor, the backs of them running along the windowed walls. Speaking of windowed, every single window was covered with black-out curtains, and Louis turned to Harlock to inquire about that relevant coincidence.

“Jenner did that as I was driving,” Harlock informed, grabbing another long curtain out from one of the bags that had been dropped on the first segment of couch at the front. “Harry, help me with this one. We have to separate the front from back,” he said, the Roman jumping to help reenact the Kombi Samba light-blocking system.

“Are you nervous at all?” Jenner asked Louis, his face displaying that he certainly was.

“I’m only nervous about staying here and getting these people killed,” Louis responded, a fire behind his passionate eyes as he walked down the length of the bus and inspected every aspect of its interior. There was a small counter in the back with a cabinet underneath that housed plates and eating utensils, as well as a hopelessly dirtied set of salt and pepper shakers, and he didn’t think he’d be seasoning any food with them, but he let them be.

“Alright, we’re ready,” Martin announced, helping Tanner up the steps like a true gentleman and putting their bags where all the others seemed to be on the couch to the right of the entrance, closest to the driver’s seat.

“Wait, we have to say goodbye,” Tanner stressed, leaping back down and running across the ground as Zayn, Niall, and all of their newly made friends poured out of the main house.

Harlock and Harry finished their duct taping and nailing, and they left an extra roll behind to tape the curtain to the top of the bus when they were driving at night and wanted to communicate with whomever the driver happened to be at the time without a cloth barrier between them. They clapped their hands together simultaneously and cocked their heads to the exit like they shared a mind, Jenner and Louis chuckling as they walked back to the front of the bus.

“Another chapter closing,” Harry noted, taking Louis in his arms and hanging back a moment as the other two ran out to give their farewells to the Sparrows.

“How many more chapters do you think we have?” Louis muffled into Harry’s plain black t-shirt, squeezing his torso like he was steadying himself in the midst of an 8.5-Richter scale earthquake.

“Louis, our story is endless,” Harry chided, planting non-stop kisses atop Louis’ head until the human finally started giggling.

“Alright, alright,” Louis surrendered, tilting his face upward and putting his lips in firing range instead.

Harry bent down and took the bait, his hands running up and down Louis’ tensed back until he felt it relax vertebrae by vertebrae. Harry was humbled by his ability to sate his human’s anxiety, and he rocked them back and forth as Louis let out a satisfying episode of happy sighs.

“Alright, let’s go,” Louis quipped, bending back as he grasped both of Harry’s upper arms, smiling when he caught that splendorous Roman face in his gaze because it would always be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Auron had his features, sure, but they were twisted with darkness and hatred; Auron could never wear the soft look of genuine love on his face that Harry could. Not even his somewhat romantic dream with Auron in that field matched the worshiping shine in Harry’s eyes right now, just from standing in a musty bus together. “I love you, Hadrian,” Louis and Alex breathed, their hands sliding up to hold the sides of their lover’s neck.

“I love you both more than anything,” Harry responded intensely. “I’ve been really useless lately—No, let me finish,” he said quickly as his lover opened their mouth to refute that statement, “I’ve been telling you time and time again that I’ll protect you. That I’ll keep you safe...but I’ve failed consistently—so consistently that my words have come to mean nothing. Empty—”

“Harry—”

“What did I say?” Harry challenged, waiting until Louis and Alex huffed and pointedly closed their mouth before continuing, “But I swear to you...Auron will _never_ get you in his arms again. He will never bite you again. Ever. On my entire existence, this I swear. His chances to get at you are long gone. I’m still an Emperor to this day; I have not forgotten the meaning of duty and authority. I will protect you with everything I am, okay?” he vowed, his hands holding Louis and Alexander’s face and slightly shaking it after every few spoken declarations.

“I trust you. I believe you,” Louis and Alex promised, the tiniest wave of tears gathering near the inner corners of their eyes from witnessing the fierce verdict of safekeeping and security from the old leader of the Roman Empire.

“Good,” Harry said simply, stepping away and taking his lover’s hand as he led them down the precariously vertical steps to the crowd that had gathered around the now lit bonfire.

Lori, Amberly, Erakus, and a few others Louis had been cordial with skipped up and gave him individual hugs, and Louis returned them each with the same amount of fury—no matter how perilous things had gotten at the end, he’d still miss these people (and environment) like crazy, and he hoped that he’d be able to someday see them again. When the war that followed his and Harry’s relationship had come to its long overdue close; when they could live in the peace and harmony that they deserved.

Long shot?

Maybe.

Louis spotted Niall standing alone before the bonfire with a pensive look on his face, tearing a large leaf into tiny pieces and tossing them into the billowing flames, and he walked over to him at once, approaching him carefully because it was obvious that he was deeply troubled. “Niall?” he addressed lowly, the blonde looking over and dragging his eyes back to the mesmerising fire.

“Is Louis even your real name?” Niall asked, stuck in the sourest mood he’d been in since Louis had pulled that ridiculous stunt in the lunchroom with Troy.

“Wha—of _course_ it is, Niall,” Louis stressed, throwing an arm around Niall’s shoulders and pulling him in close. “There’s a lot of strange things about me that you don’t know, and I take full responsibility for not telling you sooner, but...to tell you the whole truth, I don’t know everything either. I think I was waiting to tell everyone until I had a better idea of what all this is, but...yeah, I should have mentioned there was something going on with me…” he admitted, Niall meeting his eyes and giving him a small upturn of his hardened and frowning lips.

“You’ve _always_ had something off with you, Louis. Especially after you found the mansion, but...I don’t know, I’ve watched it happen a number of times now...it’s not like it’s news to me that there’s some secret about you that I don’t know. Truth be told, you’ve been saying weird things since sophomore year, but you never seemed to notice, so I never brought it up,” Niall mentioned, Louis’ arm dropping from Niall’s upper body crashing against his own side in shock.

“Sophomore year?” Louis clarified shrilly, confounded to hear there had been examples of weirdness stretching back that far.

“Yeah,” Niall affirmed, chuckling as he lifted another leaf and began to break it apart to throw into the fire. He looked around them and took note of everyone laughing and talking to each other genially, giving them the time and privacy to discuss their enlightening matters. “You'd say things you didn't seem to notice saying.”

“Like what?”

“Like...you'd stare off into the distance and say shit like ‘I wonder where he is’ and ‘I've waited long enough’ and stuff like that. I never questioned it, and you’d always just keep going on like nothing had happened, so I just let it slide; ponder to myself what it meant every time,” he said, checking Louis’ face for any hint of recognition.

“Gods...I had no idea it had started that early,” Louis breathed, Niall snorting in response, probably because “Gods” was one of those odd things he’d referred to.

“Yeah. It wasn’t always that trancey shit either. Sometimes you’d just use words that I’d never heard you use before...weird phrases and mannerisms that were new and way different than usual. _Old_ words. It’s funny...when you and I made that list of the vampires’ characteristics, the ‘talks from different eras’ one kinda just made me think of you,” he confessed lightheartedly, laughing at the blank look on Louis’ face.

“News to me,” Louis said with a shrug, crossing his arms and giving Niall a lopsided smile of innocence.

“I’m just looking forward to the explanation I’ll get after all these years,” Niall said sternly, making it known that he would not stand being told nothing needed explaining.

“I’m looking forward to an explanation too,” Louis groaned, slapping a hand down on Niall’s shoulder as they turned their gazes upward to the starry sky. “You’ve gone through so much in these past three weeks, Niall. It’s a wonder you’re still sane,” he praised, unbelievably proud of his best friend for taking the hits as they’d come with undying courage.

“Yeah well...I was kinda tired of only reading about superheroes in comic books, anyway. It was nice to meet some,” he said, angling his face so he could shift his eyes to Louis’ profile.

Louis giggled and brought his hand back to his body to shove into his jean pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he backed away from the perforating heat of the bonfire. “Come on, Superman. We got people to hug,” he said, skipping toward his vampire while Niall ran toward his, both humans terrified of the future, but with the unbreakable bonds that flourished in their tight-knit group, they had something the other side didn’t have.

Yeah, cringe all you fuckin’ want, it was love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Harlock got in a brawl when he was seventeen (and human) and a blade was slashed across his eye, totally fucking the thing up for good. A medical practitioner removed it, and he has an upward scar over everything now, but the patch covers it.  
> Note: I apologize in advance for an cardiac arrests that transpire from you lot in the next chapter.  
> Also...how many of you thought Alex was cheating on Hadrian with Auron? LOL GOTCHA


	16. Third Strike To Nigh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, sorry for the late upload. I really don't have a good excuse. I started getting really insecure about some of the reviews I've gotten on how the story is going, and I just had a night of weakness. Kinda curled up in a ball and watched Shameless all night, refusing to acknowledge the fact that I'd ever written a paragraph of fiction in my life ha. But I got my mojo back, so here you go. I'm currently working on 17, and I really hope I can get it out tomorrow, but I don't like how close my upload speed is catching up to my writing. It's stressful, BUT I'll manage. Sorry to those whom I've disappointed. :)

“Come on, Niall, how long does it fucking take?” Louis shouted from outside the bathroom door of the all-night truck stop. In four hours of driving, they were still in California—short and sweet goodbye’s had turned out to be hard to force—but having passed Redding on the I-5 half an hour ago, they were now nearing Oregon (one and a half hours to the southern city of Medford), and only had about one hour left until the sun would rise.

“It’s the burritos! Cut me some fucking _slack_ , man,” Niall yelled from inside, the muffled reply still clear enough for Louis’ ears.

“‘I gotta leak,’ quoth the raven!” Louis cried regardless, hopping between his feet and impatiently rapping on the chamber door, if you will.

“Well never-fucking-more!” Niall shot back, the sound of something clanging on the door startling Louis away from it. “You have the lucky far-reaching piss stream of a male, go do it in a bush!”

“But—ughh, _Christ_ ,” Louis groaned in defeat, strolling away from the coveted toilet and across the gravel pathway to reach the edge of the trees, where Martin and Tanner stood while the butler smoked a cigarette to himself. “Stand guard, I gotta fucking piss and these truck drivers have been giving me weird eyes,” he snapped in agitation, storming into the thick of the pines to gain some small measure of privacy.

The bus was around the other side of the building where Harry and Zayn were fighting over gas pumps because the oil crisis seemed to be the worst in California, but they were close by enough that Louis felt he could wander off safely.

He trudged through the sticks and brush at his feet until he found a worthy bush to empty his bladder into, wondering what kind of horrific events they were all in for on their journey to New York. _I wonder if Auron will come back...I mean, of course he will, right? What happens when he does? We’re significantly down in numbers now. Will we be able to fend off Auron, a handful of Elders, and a bunch of adult vampires with just the eight of us? Well...four technically, because we only have four vampires to fight for us. If he’d turn me now, I could help, I know I could._

By the time all his thinking had taken place, he’d done his business, and he zipped up his fly as he walked back to the opening in the forest, kicking thick branches out of the way as he went. He’d almost made it back to Martin and Tanner when he heard it; the bone-chilling threat of Auron’s voice in the depths of his mind, stopping him with a small stumble.

_‘Nowhere in the world you can ever hide from me.’_

“Hadrian’s gonna end you,” he bit to the shapeless apparition of Harry’s twin, resuming his walk as if he hadn’t been interrupted. It was only two steps forward that Louis was shown something else; a vision of the past through the eyes of Alexander.

 

~~~

 

_“Not that my foolish brother would ever see it coming...I’m ‘reformed’ now,” Alexander heard Auron say, inching closer to the window frame as the twin spoke quietly to a companion of his that had been hanging around the area for days on end. He probably didn’t know that Alexander was listening in, but he also didn’t have the senses that Alexander had._

_“When do we strike?” the friend asked, an excited twist to his words like he’d been waiting to ‘strike’ his entire life._

_“Patience, Michael. This needs to be handled with the utmost of care...you know Azazel won’t tolerate a sloppy execution,” Auron chided, Alexander pushing himself against the wall as he strained hard to hear every single noise uttered from the evil twin’s mouth._

_He’d learned early on in his and Hadrian’s relationship that his maker had been called ‘Azazel,’ and that one short confession was still the only time he’d ever heard the name spoken aloud. Just once, but he remembered it well—how did Auron know of Azazel?_

_“Well you’d better do it soon,” the other vampire huffed, turning to leave as their meetup was officially coming to its confusing close. “If you go back on your word, Azazel’s gonna kill you first.”_

 

~~~

 

“What the fuck!” Louis shouted, repeating the sentence over and over again in his head because the blasted thing had a nasty habit of losing all of its god damned memory. _Back on word, kill you first, back on word, kill you first,_ he chanted relentlessly, the startling appearance of Harry almost knocking him straight over.

He sprinted up to Harry’s wary and guarded form, violently grabbing the front of his shirt as he hauled him into his chest, his eyes wide and manic as he repeated, “Well you’d better do it soon! If you go back on your word, Azazel’s gonna kill you first! Spoken by Auron’s friend. To Auron. Outside house. England. 1599. In regards to taking you out,” he rambled, his body going limp in Harry’s arms from the excitement. He’d finally been helpful. _For fucking once._

“Jupiter, what?” Harry croaked, steadying Louis’ keel and holding him upright to implore a deeper explanation.

“Uhh I don't know,” Louis said in a panic, scrambling around in his head while he dug his claws into the memory. “Michael. Auron and Michael talking about killing you. Alexander overheard them. Michael asked when Auron would strike, Auron said he needed to be careful. Michael told Auron that he had to do it soon, because if Auron went back on his word, then Azazel would kill him first,” he recited impressively thoroughly, replaying everything to make sure he'd gotten it all out.

Harry’s eyes went wide with shock. He let go of Louis and stepped back a few paces, his knuckles coming up to cover his lips while his eyebrows danced in fearful contemplation.

Louis braced himself against the nearest tree and said nothing while Harry pondered the information, trying to quiet even his breathing so the Roman’s thoughtful train was sure to stay railed on track. He didn't know how much time had passed before Harry’s vacant eyes finally flicked up to meet his, and then the Roman strode forward to take Louis’ hand and pull him through the outskirts of the forest.

“Harry?” Louis squeaked, his small feet tittering as he kept up with Harry’s urgent pace, meeting Martin’s speechless (and Tanner’s confused) expressions when they broke through the last of the trees.

“Later,” Harry said under his breath, cocking his head to convey he needed Martin to follow them around the building.

The four of them walked in heavy silence, the school bus in view once they'd rounded the corner of the truck stop, Harlock, Jenner, Zayn, and Niall found leaned against it in wait. Zayn’s face seemed to say “I heard that” to Harry but it went ignored as Harry pulled Louis up the steps of the bus, their cautious group leaping up after them.

Martin pulled a lever to close the door, and Jenner started up the blaring engine of their current home, pulling out to the road and giving the seated individuals frequent glances from the gigantic rearview mirror.

“What the hell does that mean?” Zayn finally questioned after they'd been driving silently for a full minute, every pair of eyes (including Jenner’s fleeting gazes) ganging up on the stoic Harry.

Harry still sat immobile like the marble effigy of himself in the Roman room of their old mansion, his blank face making him look like he needed one of those blankets that ambulance workers give you when you're in shock.

Louis had waited far too long. “Harry!” he snapped, standing up and putting his all into kicking Harry’s knee, the stunned immortal blinking rapidly as he looked for the culprit of the strike.

“Yeah…” Harry drawled, shaking his head and running his hands down his face as he came back to exist within the frame of the bus, rather than the limitless black hole of his racing mind. “I'm so lost,” he admitted, cracking under the knowledge that his entire life’s purpose may have been a calculated facade.

“What did I hear?” Louis begged, Alexander unfortunately not making a helpful cameo and explaining it all in perfect detail. Perhaps the vision had been all he’d had the strength to push out.

“I _barely_ know,” Harry groaned in agitation, still reeling at the speed of sound and light from the vague reveal of Auron’s motive...was it really bigger than Hadrian taking the throne? Was that only part of it? What else...why did it involve Azazel? Why had he turned both of them? Are they still plotting to rule the world? Why was he even important then? Surely not because he would try to stop them (though he would). _What?_

“Can you at least try to decode it?” Louis pleaded, going for more gentle methods as he sat back down and rubbed at Harry’s tensed back.

“I _am_ trying,” Harry growled, shaking Louis’ hand off as he began to back and forth pace the length of the bus, still ignoring everyone else who were patiently—kind of—waiting for an answer. “It _sounds_ like Auron struck a deal with Azazel over killing me. Like I could even _suppose_ what the terms were...but apparently, maybe, Azazel will kill Auron if my brother can't kill me first?”

“Well what's the point of _that_?” Louis sighed, throwing his hands up in befuddlement.

“I don't _know_ ,” Harry reiterated, copying Louis’ gesture and shooting his arms out from his sides. “Azazel is far more powerful than myself. I am no threat to that devil, and why Auron has been put under this pressure, _regardless_ of how much he wants to do it anyway, makes no sense. Why threaten to kill him if he doesn't do what he already yearns for?” he asked rhetorically, fisting his hair and groaning to the floor.

“And why would your death mean anything to Azazel anyway?” Louis added, trying to imagine why a god-like immortal would give a shit about one particular concept so much.

“Exactly!” Harry yipped, all heads turning to Jenner when the warlock cleared his throat from the driver’s seat.

“Maybe it doesn't. Maybe he just knows it means something to Auron,” the redhead theorized, quickly looking over his shoulder to catch a reaction from his statement.

“What are you suggesting?” Harry pressed, not quite satisfied with that figure yet.

“It just seems like he's got Auron on a thread, I don't know,” Jenner sighed, having lost his train of thought when he’d stopped to read the signs for Oregon.

“Harry, do you remember anything from your turning that may have been some kind of hint? Did Azazel ever say anything suspicious? If he turned you after Auron, he obviously knew who you were...did he ever reveal anything?” Louis interrogated, not the least bit sorry that he was asking Harry to relive those dreadful days. They needed to utilize every bit of information they could scrounge.

Harry thought long and hard about that; his vampiric memory could serve to be a great asset if Azazel had alluded to anything, but stretching it back that far was difficult—he'd existed now for so many centuries, little blips in time always slipped through the cracks. He sat down and pulled his ankles crossed under his thighs, resting his palms over the bends in his knees and closing his eyes to focus.

He thought first of Azazel’s face; how he’d looked that day in the dungeon cell. His yellow, almost white irises, his dark ebony skin that contrasted the eyes like a piano, the long dreadlocks that hung down his back, usually tied in a ginormous bun atop his head; the unnaturally long length of his fangs, the constant spitting he would do to combat the overload of his autonomously sovereign endorphins that spewed from his membrane patches, the rabid look he would get in his eyes whenever he caught the faintest whiff of life. It was all petrifying. All of it. Azazel would rip things to shreds with no remorse; make sure his every feeding was a grotesquely painful one for the prey; never leave anything left alive; always feast on the heart afterward...he was insane.

As if this wasn’t all horrendous enough, Azazel had always had a heartbeat...suggesting he didn’t exist in the same state of death that all other immortals do, further proving the point to Harry that he may very well have been an original vampire. _Born that way...from what?_ Harry shuddered, shifting his thoughts to the immortal’s voice, ignoring the conniving and skin-crawling tone it had to focus on the words that had been formed from it.

Little quotes came to Harry’s mind in passing memories, starting with the very first thing Azazel had ever uttered to him: “ _Oh, this will be fun._ ” Harry’s closed eyes squeezed tighter; that unnerving phrase had without a doubt been the first thing he’d ever been told by the stranger in the cell. Had Azazel said that because he’d already turned Auron by that point? Obviously...but what did it mean?

He thought further, quotes coming in orderless waves from random moments during their weeks together: “ _….Yes, I know who you are, Hadrianus of Rome….I’m going to ask you a series of questions….Rule over Rome forever….Sounds like your brother is a bit of a nuisance—I can help you dispose of him….You’re more than worthy of my immortality….Magnificent fangs, look at you—my beautiful creation….Your slaughter of prey is like delicious sustenance to me, my child….Your lure is already so strong for your age—you will be perfect when you are matured….I might be nervous if we were equals, my outstanding work of art….You’re just how I wanted you….Perhaps we shall meet again, my little predator. What a fateful day that will be.”_

Harry ripped out of his meditated retrieval of memories like he’d been shot from a bow, flying off the seats and tripping over everything around him as he struggled to regain his balance. Zayn and Martin rushed to catch him and Louis sprinted to the trio, throwing his arms around Harry’s torso because out of everyone, his comforts would break through with the most force.

“Harry, you're safe! You're in the bus!” Louis stressed, waiting for Harry’s wild eyes to lock onto his and display recognition. When it happened, he proceeded: “What did you see? Did you remember anything?”

Harry sucked in a pointless breath and let it all out in a sharp exhale, patting the nearest shoulder of both Zayn and Martin to say they could let go now. The vampires adhered and backed away, staying close because their interest in Harry’s potential epiphany was tangible in the electrically charged atmosphere.

“Harry?” Louis asked again, forcing his vampire to reveal what he'd seen before he crept back into that catatonic state of his. He carded his fingers through his own feathered hair, the length of it teasing the tips of his shoulders when he dropped the strands back down. His hair had grown to the longest it's ever been over the last couple of weeks, and it was almost long enough to pull back into a ponytail...but now really wasn't the time to be thinking about his _hair_ of all things.

“He actually did say a bunch of weird shit,” Harry admitted, running his palms along his jeans as if they were clammy like a human’s. “I don't think I really listened at the time...I was on too high a power-trip. And his constant onslaught of compliments and appraisals were the only things that had mattered to me.”

“What kind of weird things are we talking about?” Louis inquired, keeping his voice on the soothing side because Harry looked like a vibrating barrel of gunpowder; any one of them could accidentally be the spark to detonate it.

“I can’t repeat them. I really can’t, so please don’t ask. It was just a bunch of crap, but it had elements to it that I...I don’t know, he clearly seemed pleasantly surprised to find me in the cell. Whether he’d known I’d be there or not is still a mystery, but he’d immediately pegged me as Auron’s twin, that I know,” he said needlessly, trying to dig deeper when he was met with expectant stares from all angles. “He just said how ‘fun’ this would be...sympathized with me over my brother, wished me superficial luck with him all the time, joked about how he’d be nervous if we’d been equals, mentioned how fated it would be when we crossed paths again, that kind of shit,” he rasped out, a sickening tingle rippling out from the epicenter of Azazel’s one and only bite mark on the left side of his lower neck, Zayn and Martin dropping their mouths open as he started to rub at it appeasingly.

“Stop talking about him,” Zayn demanded, his fear over Harry’s fear beating against the inner walls of his skull like the cathedral bells of the Notre Dame. If the mere memory of Azazel caused physical reactions to shudder through Harry’s Elder body, Zayn didn’t want the Roman focusing any more thought on the terrifying concept of his maker...simply because Zayn doesn't think he can handle that kind of stress.

Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry’s unmistakable reaction to a mark’s annoying pinch on his skin; it was invisible to his eyes, but it didn’t matter. He knew exactly where Azazel’s bite had been placed. “So...we've got a weird confession from Auron about your shared maker, an aggressive forest vision a la Alexander, your cryptic memories of weird phrases from Azazel, my nightmares that Auron says he wants to take over the world in, eight creatures in a bus on the way to New York up against thousands, potentially more, of enemies that want to kill us for reasons we have absolutely no leads on, and only four of us can actually fight?...” Louis listed, his face frozen in incredulity while he waited for someone to say something.

“Don't forget the partridge in a pear tree,” Niall added, his words muffled through a mouthful of potato chips.

“Aww _Zeus_! What are we gonna _do_?” Louis whined, slapping his forehead into his palms.

“We stay calm,” Martin said obviously, wrapping his arms around Tanner in his lap while Harlock stood to walk over to the driving Jenner and massage his shoulders.

“This may not be the time,” Niall began shamelessly, “but I really want to know who Alexander is.”

Louis smiled and dropped his head down, chuckling toward his lap as he thought about how he would start this story. Just as he got an idea of how to approach it, Harry pulled his sun necklace out of his pocket where Louis hadn’t known it had been, and dropped it around his head, even sliding the pendant down behind the front of Louis’ shirt to keep it close to his heart. Over the cloth barrier, Louis felt around the hard metal object in the center of his chest, smiling over at Harry as the Roman decided to tell the story himself.

“I met Alexander in 455. The Vandals were annihilating my birthplace of Rome, where I’d lived and ruled as its Emperor three or so centuries prior. Alexander was annoyingly leading the forces that sought to destroy my former home, but when we met on the battlefield, I was taken by his beauty. He convinced me to let Rome go, and I grudgingly did...after that, we were together and deeply in love up until 1599, when my brother Auron killed him,” Harry recounted, his anger over the murder still a raw wound to his body that had never fully healed. Getting him back was only starting to patch that gaping hole—but it was undoubtedly a step in the right direction.

“But what does that have to do with Louis?” Niall pried, saving all of his other sympathetic responses for after he’d learned the correlation.

“Alexander _is_ me,” Louis informed, skipping over Martin and Zayn’s sweet and happy smiles to lock eyes with the dumbfounded Niall.

“How?” Niall squeaked; his relationship to mathematics was a notoriously rocky one, but he knew when two things didn’t add up, and this was definitely a prime example of that.

“I’m not completely sure,” Louis admitted with an easy shrug, “but I came back. I have my old likeness, and the old me...talks to me sometimes...lives through me, shows me things I need to know, reminds me of things, is slowly changing my body,” he listed, actually using his fingers to count the facts to see how many there were.

“How is he changing your body?” Niall asked, forcing himself to accept the information and ask relevant questions instead of more “how”s. He’d accepted a fuck load lot more since the first of the month...just add this to the pile of madness.

“Louis’ blood is growing older,” Harry explained, taking a whiff to prove his point to himself, even if Niall didn’t have the senses to pick it up. “That’s probably why Auron just thinks you turned human suddenly...though I don’t know how he justifies killing you...maybe he thinks there was magic involved in your death,” he theorized, driving himself insane with his lifetime supply of unanswerable questions. “You have instinctive impulses to bite me sometimes, you constantly play with your teeth and try to make them grow, you hiss in your sleep, though you can’t quite do it right,” he added with a snort, replaying all the instances in which Louis cutely hissed like a house cat in the midst of a nightmare. “Sometimes for a split second, you become powerful enough to actually shove me aside,” he said pointedly to Louis, his arm dropping around his shoulders while he brushed his knuckles up and down Louis’ neck.

“Wait...I hiss in my sleep?” Louis cackled, throwing his head back in laughter when Harry nodded with a grin.

“Why can I picture that so well?” Jenner asked from the front, pressing down on the brakes because they had hit a patch of traffic for roadside construction.

“Whatever you’re imagining, that’s exactly how it is,” Harry said, yawning in exhaustion as his fangs dropped down automatically from the wide opening of his jaw. “Oh shit,” he chuckled, going to force them back in when a hand slapped onto his chest.

“Wait,” Louis said, tossing his leg over Harry’s thighs to straddle his hips. “You have to sleep soon, but before that…” he murmured, turning his face to the side to expose his neck and shooting Harry a seductive look out of the corner of his eyes.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Harry purred dishonestly, knowing damn well that Louis would have eventually asked. He obeyed the suggestive command, and it didn’t take long for Tanner and Niall’s blood to hit the air too. Once they’d all had their fun, the vampires were significantly drowsier than before, but Harlock asked Martin to take the wheel for just a second while he took in the magical blood of Jenner.

The butler rushed to comply before his energy crashed completely, and Harlock dragged Jenner over to the first seat they could take, letting him concentrate on the sunlight spell in his blood to revamp its effect, pardon the play on words. Once he was ready, Harlock dove in, withstanding the harsh flood of powerful magic into his body. Drinking spell-woven blood was almost always a painful and overwhelming experience, but there was an aspect of fun to it that was hard to deny—it was like a challenge.

Once he’d taken enough to stay awake all day, he pulled off, patting Jenner on the head while he pressed their lips together. He didn’t quite need to exchange the temporary farewells that the other couples did, so he moved to the driver’s seat and quickly switched places with Martin.

“Sleep well. I promise, no more morgues,” Louis chuckled, melting into Harry’s arms and taking a deep inhale of his immortal scent. It was like a combination of pages in an old book, petrichor in the middle of a redwood forest, and rosemary. Delicious.

“I sincerely hope so,” Harry replied, releasing his human when he began to sway on his feet because the threat of sunlight was becoming incessantly adamant. “I don’t think I could handle a repeat of that experience,” he scoffed as he strolled to the back couch, keeling over to lie on its soft plush and forget the world for a while.

Louis smiled after him with fond admiration, then turning his gaze to Zayn and Martin, who had reached up to untape the curtain from the ceiling and let it billow toward the ground, thereby separating the front section from the back to block the light that would soon pour in from the windshield. They were driving due north, but it wouldn’t matter—any light would suck. He sat down heavily and averted his eyes as Niall and Tanner got their share of passionate kisses, instead turning to Jenner who had taken up Harry’s spot beside him. “Is Harlock really going to be okay all day?” he asked, unperturbed that Harlock could hear everything he was saying.

“For sure, he’s groovy,” Jenner replied, yawning because spell-woven blood was just as intense to give as it probably was to receive. “Even direct sunlight won’t hurt him, and he won’t get tired at all...it’s almost like I give him methamphetamines,” he laughed, Louis giggling along with him.

“Good. We need at least one unstoppable machine in this group,” Louis sighed after coming down off his amusement, his eyes traveling to the three immortals sprawled out on the back couches who were already dead asleep. Well no, they were currently alive but...you know.

“So we’ve gotta stay awake for sure, right? Because we should be sleeping at night?” Niall asked, Tanner planting himself down right next to him and twisting sideways, throwing his legs over Niall’s while the blonde rested his hands on his slightly bent knees. 

“That’s what Zayn said, yeah,” Louis recalled, a bit upset with their opposite scheduling, but there were worse things—like all sleeping at once and getting attacked, for instance. Jenner had said earlier that he wouldn’t do well against a fleet of vampires, but that he had a unique spell he could unleash that would help them in a one on one fight, so their spirits were high. For the most part.

“How long until we get to Washington?” Louis asked Harlock, the eyepatch immortal now concealed behind the impenetrable black curtain.

“Well…” the vampire said with a throat clearing, the flapping of paper suggesting he was consulting a map. “From where we are right now, it’s about six hours to Portland...and then we’re taking the I-84 E, uh...then...I-82 W, US-395 N, I-90 E—”

“Harlock,” Jenner interjected sternly, silently laughing at the sudden clap of maps that had evidently just scattered all over the floor.

“Okay uh...twelve-ish hours to Spokane Valley. Which is where we’re headed. Basically the Idaho border. Does that answer your question?” Harlock laughed, lightheartedly exasperated with himself for dropping everything.

“Yes, thank you,” Jenner replied, snapping his fingers across the alleyway because Niall and Tanner were dangerously close to snoozing on each other.

“We’re up,” Niall snorted, slapping at his face to stay in the present while Tanner grumbled indignantly.

“What time is it?” Jenner asked Louis, wanting to get a good idea on when they would reach Spokane Valley.

Louis glanced down at his watch, barely harboring the energy to lift his wrist so he just twisted it at his hip. “It’s basically five in the morning.”

“Okay, so twelve hours...plus like two for gas and stops...that puts us there at about...seven?” he estimated, his friends nodding along in agreement. “Good, they’ll be up by then.”

“Why is that specifically a good thing?” Tanner croaked, his voice groggy from actually dozing off against Niall.

“I guess it’s just best to have them around when we get into Idaho...kinda where all this shit started, isn’t it?” the warlock reasoned, every face falling dark with suppressed fears and worries.

“You’re right about that,” Louis sighed, slouching down into the dip of the couch and straightening his legs out in front of him, the heels of his Adidas digging into the carpet.

“So what do we do?” Niall asked, eager to find something that could keep him awake until nighttime.

Harlock hummed from the front as he tried to come up with something, but his only suggestion was a toxic one. “Know any good songs to sing?”  

“Absolutely not,” Louis and Tanner said at once, Jenner’s eyebrows shooting up his curious face.

“Well that answers that,” the Elder quipped, exiting out of the conversation and focusing on the road.  

“I still can’t believe you’re an ancient King of Asia,” Niall blurted to Louis, putting his inner thoughts out on the table because they desperately needed sorting. “Like that must be so wicked, right?”

“Are you kidding? The Alexander side of me is infuriating. Always interrupting me and dictating the direction my mind and memories will go when I’m usually doing something really important,” Louis grumbled, sending Alexander his love as he talked trash about him. Love thyself, right? “But I won’t lie, it’s pretty cope,” he admitted, hugging himself around the middle in glee.

“Do you know _how_ you came back?” Niall inquired, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his overcrossed knee to prop his chin with his palm.  

“Mmm...no,” Louis mused, looking over to the sleeping form of Harry, knowing that it had everything to do with him, but unable to piece it all together. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t reach it yet. But I’m about to...I’m really close, I can feel it. _Very soon now_ ,” he drawled, narrowing his eyes in concentration at Harry’s exposed neck while the familiar tingling in his gums came back. He could almost taste Hadrian’s blood in his mouth the longer he stared, impervious to the weird looks he was receiving for slipping into that trance-like state Alexander frequently throws him into.

Very soon now.

 

\---

 

They had just passed the signs for Pinehurst, Idaho, when the vampires roused from their daylong slumber. Their prediction via Jenner’s calculations of reaching Spokane Valley by seven o’clock had stayed true to its mark, crossing the border thirty minutes later, and now it was eight, the school bus valiantly screeching through a rough altitude of mountain ranges in the darkness.

“Morning!” Zayn greeted, sweeping Niall off the couch and spinning him around in a happy circle while Martin taped the curtain back onto the ceiling to connect the bus’s sections.

Louis had snuck over to Harry’s couch some odd hour prior, and the Roman gradually blinked his eyes open to find he’d been lain upon his human’s lap. “What a glorious way to wake up,” he mumbled dazedly, his sleep muddled voice vibrating the tops of Louis’ thighs with its deep timbre.

“Why hello,” Louis chirped, tilting his face down to meet the magnificently green eyes of his heart’s keeper as he lightly scratched at his scalp. “How are your eyes always so bright when they never reflect the sun?”

Harry adopted a thoughtful expression, rubbing at his chest while he stretched his legs. “Is that the science of eye colouring?” he asked, his legs falling back down while he pulled his sun necklace out from Louis’ shirt, turning it around in his hand to inspect it.

“I don't actually know,” Louis confessed with a short laugh, shrugging his shoulders as he peered at the necklace as well. “I know light brown hair can turn blonde from the sun, I only assume eyes do it too. Get lighter I mean, not turn blonde,” he needlessly corrected, blushing as he did so.

“I understand,” Harry chuckled, scooting himself up with a hand on the opposite side of Louis’ hips, facing him in close proximity while he stroked his face. “In that case, I think they just respond to the magnitude of radiance within yours.”

“Pfft,” Louis spat impassively, shaking his head at Harry’s grossly romantic antics. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Harry.” The moment the words left his mouth, he was reminded of his dream with Auron, having said the exact same thing moments before the two of them had gotten hot and heavy. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the sudden itch in his neck to go away, beyond enraged that Auron still found a way to sneak his presence into Louis’ already excessively violated body.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, touching his palm to Louis’ forehead to try and smooth the ridges it had formed.

“Fine,” Louis huffed, batting Harry’s innocent hand away and standing to shake the sudden sensations away from his undeserving self.

“The most contradictory word of all time,” Harry muttered, pretending he'd said nothing when Louis whipped around to glare at him.

“I smell vampires around here,” Harlock suddenly mentioned, the humans jumping like someone had shouted “Giant spider!”

“There’re always vampires in woods,” Harry reasoned, a passive wave of his hand shooting the sudden panic out of the water. “You know weary travelers are our favourite.”

“For predators, yeah,” Harlock rectified, not exactly comfortable with lumping himself in with killer vampires...the kind of vampire they'd all been back in the day.

“Well that's why they're here. I don't know, Louis, can you sense Auron nearby?” Harry reluctantly asked his lover, unspeakably pissed off that Louis of all people had the best radar on his twin brother, even against his own Elder nose.  

Louis took an introspective look into the culprit of his unwanted addiction, gauging his possible whereabouts while he sternly reminded himself that the neck tingle was from accidentally thinking about the dream. “I don't really feel anything,” he finally said, Harry slowly nodding at his verdict.

“Would you be able to tell if the vampires around were Auron’s?” Harry inquired, watching Louis closely as he used his otherworldly abilities of detection to suss out the answer.

“No, I don’t know that my senses go that far,” Louis explained, looking apologetic that he couldn’t be of any further help.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry soothed, taking a huge inhale of the air and studying it with every speck of his focus. “I can’t smell any trace of him, so...I think we’re okay,” he supposed, the open-ended lack of confidence setting everyone on edge, including himself. If Auron had been extra careful about not mingling his scent with his turned, that lack-of-scent comment would mean nothing.

Despite all that, they ambled forth, their clunky bus complaining more aggressively with each incline of road they climbed. They all understood the grinding sounds from below their feet as the bus struggled to master the mountainous slopes, but it was the loud clank and crash of engine failure when they’d peaked one particularly brutal hill that sparked immediate concern.

“Um?” Niall squeaked unintentionally, stealing the thought from everyone’s mind.

“Okay, it's okay,” Harlock said breezily, pulling off onto a conveniently placed dirt path that led to...somewhere...and easing on the brakes as they rolled in a stagnant descension, the bus eerily quiet from the death of its engine.

“How is this okay?” Niall demanded, all sorts of concerns haunting his mind that went hand in hand with being stranded in a dark forest in the _middle of nowhere_ that was apparently crawling with predatory vampires.

“Harlock’s a master at repairing motor vehicles,” Jenner said confidently, holding mass faith in his vampire to fix whatever the problem was.

“You are?” Niall asked the English Elder, his comfort relying on Harlock’s alleged ability to save them from a stationary doom.

“Yeah,” Harlock confirmed as though it were obvious. “I have to be. All those cars in my garage that have been entrusted to me? I gotta keep them ship-shape,” he explained, yanking the emergency brake when they evened out onto what appeared to be a common campsite—not tonight, though.

“If you say so,” Niall sighed, not entirely convinced yet, but holding firm to the old saying of ‘believe it when you see it.’

All passengers hopped out to take a look around, and Harlock veered down to the opposite end of the bus, popping a back side compartment open to inspect the engine and its mysteriously faulty components.

“Need a flashlight?” Louis asked, slapping himself in the forehead when he realized the idiocy of that question.

“Aha, I think I'm good, thanks,” Harlock jeered teasingly, returning to his equipment manhandling.

Jenner strode up to offer any assistance to his immortal, and the other pairs found separate trees to relax against, murmuring amongst each other like nobody else was around.

“Are they getting any closer to us?” Louis asked into Harry’s chest, referring of course to the anonymous vampires in the mountains.

“No,” Harry said, Louis sighing in relief from the one piece of good news. “They're getting closer to each other.”

Well there goes that. “What!” Louis barked, his human friends craning their necks to catch the content of their conversation. “What does _that_ mean?” he whispered lowly, against the idea of causing a panic when he wasn't sure they were even in danger.

“It means they smell you four,” Harry said tensely, a fierce wave of possession taking over as he squeezed Louis tight against him. “They won't attack, though. They can't smell me yet. Once they discover two Elders and two seasoned, they'll back off...unless they're suicidal,” he added skeptically, though it has been known to happen.

“Are our scents really more powerful than your guys's?” Louis asked in fascination, finding the notion a tough one to follow.

“Are you serious? It's _human blood_ , Louis. That's the strongest of all,” Harry rationalized, sniffing up Louis’ neck and growling in pride to have the aroma all to himself. And Martin that one time but that barely counts.

“I’m hoping they just stay put,” Louis grumbled, momentarily distracted by the upset moan of Harlock.

“What is it?” Harry asked, their whole group creeping over to the back of the bus.

“I need parts I don’t have,” Harlock cried with a furious outstretch of his arms, his hands slapping back on his thighs as he glared up to the night sky. “Of course.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Niall whined, refusing to be consoled by Zayn’s attempted ministrations.

“I have to get the things I need,” Harlock replied obviously, grunting in frustration as he forcibly resisted the urge to kick the engine for its damning condition, aware that said kick would ruin every chance they had at getting the bus back on the road.

“Where could you even go from here?” Martin asked, unable to remember passing something like an auto repair shop because he’d been asleep all day.

“Dear, could you grab me the Idaho map guide?” Harlock said with a light pat to Jenner’s arse, the redhead skipping off at once to collect the item. He came back out briskly, throwing the map like a frisbee to Harlock, who caught it between two fingers and let it drop open before scouring the pages.

The magic couple crowded the pamphlet and Louis found himself focusing on Auron’s mark again, feeling like he needed to keep checking it just in case something changed and the twin was suddenly right on top of them. He felt absolutely nothing from the mark, which was rare, but he took it as a good sign. Better to get crickets rather than an all-consuming, unnecessarily hostile takeover.

“Fifty miles out,” Harlock cursed, beginning to remove items from his attire like his bowtie, coat, sun necklace, and hair-tie that he’d used to corral his medium-length locks into a high bun while he’d worked on the finicky engine; you can’t particularly blame the bus for quitting, though—these types of transport vehicles were never meant for this kind of journey.  

Jenner took every handed object in his arms, jumping up to his tiptoes to kiss Harlock on the cheek for luck.

“Is anything even going to be open right now?” Niall challenged.

“It’s okay, I have to steal them anyway. You gonna be okay here?” he asked to his fellow immortals, equally wary over their sketchy environment.

“We’ll rip them apart if they even think about trying,” Zayn declared, chuckling when Niall shimmied up and down the front of his body in approval.

“Take Martin with you,” Harry ordered, little room for argument against his tone, but of course it incited a discussion.

“What? And risk one less immortal here to protect the humans if there’s an attack?” Harlock said pointedly, shaking his head to refuse the suggestion.

“And if you’re surrounded on your journey so they can pick us off?” Harry said in a slightly higher volume, making the hairs on Louis’ arms stand up in trepidation. “Are you saying Zayn and I can’t hold our ground here?”

“Are you saying that I can’t out in the wild?” Harlock shot back, the two disagreeing friends stepping up to each other and pressing their chests together as they waged a battle between their passionate glares.

“I’m an Elder,” Harlock growled in contempt, clenching his teeth together as a small hiss escaped the back of his mouth.

“You’re a child to me,” Harry snarled just as hatefully, extending his fangs to command dominance.

“Are we _really_ doing this right now? What the fuck are you fighting for?!” Louis snapped, the livid attitude of Alexander bubbling to the surface of his easily influenced mood. “We’ll _all_ be fine. Martin, go with him. It’ll make Jenner feel better, whether Eyepatch is competent on his own or not,” he bit, grabbing the sleeve of Martin’s shirt and shoving him over to knock into Harlock, his uncommon burst of strength actually moving the vampire who definitely hadn’t planned on going anywhere until the argument had been settled.

Harlock’s balance was compromised from the blunt force of Martin upon his side, and they both jogged it out to keep from falling. “And what about Tanner?” he goaded when he’d straightened up, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the frizzy-haired and sporadically freckled human.

“I’ll be fine if I know he’s with you,” Tanner contributed flawlessly, the compliment to Harlock’s strength hitting the snappish Elder like a dart.

“ _Go_ , my love. A minute more and you'll only be wasting time,” Jenner said wisely, giving his lover a light push in the center of his spine, fully aware he was the only creature here who could purposefully touch Harlock without enduring instant backlash.

“...If my love commands,” Harlock sighed in surrender, releasing the tension from his shoulders but refusing to settle the score with Harry yet. After undermining each other’s capabilities, they had a physical showdown to conduct after this. “We’ll finish this later,” he seethed straight into Harry’s glowing eyes, the Roman baring his teeth and growling low in his throat in agreement. “Be back as soon as I can,” he said at last, disappearing into the dark forest with the map in his pocket for reference, and Martin at his side.

The silence that followed was one of the most awkward of the humans’ lives, and most of them were partially nervous of the glowering Elder in their midst and what he would do if triggered.

Louis, however, was not impressed. “Vampires,” he scoffed in distaste, shoving past Harry to stomp onto the bus and get out of the stupidly thick air.

The other humans scampered in after him because returning to the useless bus was a great excuse to run away from Harry, and Zayn rolled his eyes at his best friend as soon as Tanner had hastily shut the bus door.

“That wasn’t a full on challenge,” Zayn chided, keeping his weight in his toes just in case he’d have to dodge a strike or run for his damn survival.

“Yes it was, Zayn. He challenged my status as an Elder by pointlessly waving his age in my face like _I_ should bow down to _him_!” Harry barked incredulously, doubting they’d witnessed the same interaction if Zayn was taking Harlock’s side.

“Harry...you called him a child,” Zayn stated bluntly, the irrefutable fact proving that Harry’s play had done far more damage than the hand he'd been dealt.

“Well he is!” Harry defended.

“Sure, alright. Disregarding the fact that you evidently think of me as a fetus, how would you feel if Azazel called you a child?” Zayn said, the handy mistress of logic on his side.

“He’d be right, he’s far older than I,” Harry replied flippantly, shrugging violently at Zayn’s deadpan stare.

“You’re _such_ a hypocrite,” Zayn groaned, entering the bus without another word and leaving Harry to ponder the error of his ways.

Which he didn’t. Harry followed after him and re-closed the door, fixing his disheveled hair from the woodsy gusts of wind and taking a seat beside Louis.

“Now we wait?” Louis guessed, breaking the silence once again because he has a knack for always doing it first.

Harry nodded and windmilled his arm to lie across the back of the couch, inviting Louis to snuggle into his side and sighing in bliss when he did. The feeling of his beloved anywhere on his body could either rile him or calm him, and it was always entertaining when it did both at once. “Now we wait.”

 

\---

 

And wait they did. A full fifteen minutes had gone by, and no proof came that Martin and Harlock were on their way back to the bus. Harry could tell that Tanner and Jenner were starting to get a little worried, but his concerns lay within the happenings they couldn’t detect. He had shared a many knowing glances with Zayn as they both noticed changes here and there, but neither wanted to reveal their knowledge and scare the nervous humans further.

He’s referring to the steady multiplication of the vampire body count inside the forest; the group as a whole had not moved from their spots, but their numbers had increased significantly since Harlock and Martin had ventured off in search of bus parts. Why? He didn’t know...but things like that are never assumed to be trivial—it was happening for a reason.

It was when the stagnant group instantaneously raced toward their location that Harry and Zayn jumped up like fleas and alerted the humans of the crucial progression. They could certainly pound the alarm now.

“They’re coming,” Harry growled, fixing his gaze to the west though he couldn’t see through the thick layer of black cloth against the window. A vampire’s nose was frequently his or her eyes.

“ _Can’t_ we get a _moment’s peace_!” Louis griped, his inflection bouncing up and down the scales of his voice.

“All four of you need to stay in here and stick close together, do you hear me?” Zayn commanded, herding them all into one tight-knit bunch and flying down the steps to prepare himself for the fight.

“Is he here?” Louis asked fretfully, Harry halting to turn around and face him.

“I don’t know, is he?” Harry fired back, pointing a sharp finger toward Louis’ neck—he knew he was being rude, but the stress of an attack was wearing his patience thin.

Louis scowled but focused his mind, subtly reaching out to the endorphins that wouldn’t let his body go to see if their owner was on the horizon. “No, he’s not,” he discovered with relief, Harry nodding curtly in understanding. He then dashed out and shut the door behind him (like _that_ would help), and Jenner sat on the floor in a meditative pose, independently begging not to be interrupted.

Louis backed Niall and Tanner up and watched the magical warlock at work, the chanting and humming going right over his head. He silently stared as Jenner produced herbs and random bits of earthy objects from his pockets and slapped them down on the carpet of the bus as he swirled them around, an odd glow creeping across his skin that reminded Louis of the time he’d called for Erakus in Harlock’s office.

“What are you doing?” he asked when Jenner stood up and kicked the herbs away, the warlock exuding more power in a human than Louis had ever seen.

“If I touch a vampire right now, sunlight will flow straight into their bloodstream. I can’t kill them like that, but I can take a few down for a good while. It only works about three times before I need to repeat what I just did, but...I’m low on spiritual energy anyway from daylighting Harlock,” he cursed, forcing himself to be content with the small measure of good he could do.

“We’ll take whatever we can get,” Louis encouraged, rounding Niall and Tanner behind him and taking his place at Jenner’s side because the Alexander in him would not cower, both unique creatures glaring at the bus door as if it alone was the enemy.

“They’re close! Two Elders!” they all heard Harry announce, their human hearts rattling inside their ribcages as the panic and adrenaline kicked in, the unanimous surge of energy holding the power to sharpen their movements or make them sloppy—it was up to them.

At once, like the howl of an oncoming tornado, they heard the adversarial whoosh of wind that disclosed their enemies had arrived on the scene, and the gnarly sounds of carnage followed after a beat, Harry and Zayn working together to throw the opponents back and tear limbs off as they did it. It was just as vivid and brutal as all the fights at the Sparrow house had been, and luckily they’d all heard the iconic soundtrack of gore enough times now for their stomachs to stay tolerant.

Due to the curtains at every window but the windshield and mud-covered door, their visual on the battle was severely limited. They hated the uncertainty they were stuck enduring, but none of them dared to scoot forward for a better view. The only blips of comfort they were given came in the form of intermittent roars from Harry and Zayn, affirming their two warriors were still out there and giving it their all.

Time stretched on at a sluggish pace like the duration of an hourglass that was bigger than their bus, and the sounds of death relentlessly penetrated their hyper-sensitive ears, each rip and break only assumed to be an enemy’s until the next time they would hear Harry and Zayn. It was a slow torture of helpless moratorium, and Niall clung to the back of Louis’ shirt as he peered out the windshield, catching tiny glimpses of flying bodies and their separated parts.

They all heard the cryptic call of “Star!” from a voice that did not belong in their group, and then a blast of light shone just outside the front of the bus, drawing all of their attention to it, but especially Niall’s. For the blonde was just barely able to discern the blinding light had been aimed at Zayn, and by the time he caught Zayn in his sights, his vampire was falling fast to the ground, accompanied by the protective cry of his name from Harry.

“No! They’ll kill him!” the blonde screeched in mindless terror, shoving away from Louis and leaping down the steps to get outside, ripping the door open and escaping into the fray.

“Niall, don’t!” Louis begged, automatically following him to what could easily become their deaths, but he would not allow Niall to die alone.

Jenner sprinted out next with Tanner hot on his heels, all four humans skidding to a stop when they noticed just how many immortals were now closing in on them. Too many to count.

“What are you doing out here!” Harry thundered, in a fierce duel with the two Elders he’d mentioned to hold them back from the group that was steadily boxing the humans in. “Get back inside, you idiots!” he spat, the jagged edge of genuine fear laced within his desperate tone.

But it was too late. Before the humans could even turn around to flee into the bus, the encroaching vampires gave chase, blocking the entrance and capturing all of them in their malicious grasps. Jenner instantly released his secret weapon of magic on two vampires at once as he slapped his glowing palms onto their chests, the unfortunate victims shrieking in pain and then lifelessly falling to the ground. Though it was a temporary success, it only angered the remaining vampires further, and from the ominous glints in their eyes, Jenner was starting to regret what he’d just done.

“Let them go!” Harry bellowed, jump-kicking one of the Elders aside as he tore his fangs into the arm of the other.

It was at that precise moment, all four humans were viciously assaulted by fangs in their skin; Niall had one pair of teeth in his upper arm, one embedded in his right shoulder, Louis had fangs in both his thighs and left wrist, Jenner had them on his right side, calf, and left forearm, and Tanner was stuck with the worst outcome of them all—fangs deeply lodged into his throat. They all wailed and cried in torment, not a single one of them giving in to the minuscule waves of pleasure because their potent fear vastly eclipsed all traces of it.

They barely noticed the primal howl from Harry, or the timely addition of Martin and Harlock into the mix, but there came a point in time when they were all swiftly released from their numbing cages of teeth, and they slunk to the ground as though they weighed a thousand pounds each, falling in a heap on top of each other as their attackers faced off with three of their four vampires.

Louis’ head spun as he sat himself up, his vision blurred as he watched the final animalistic showdown between the two sides of raging immortals, his lazily blinking eyes falling onto Niall and Jenner as they maneuvered through their highs in much the same way. It was like a bomb had gone off and they were all climbing through the haze of tinnitus and shock, their movements languid and leaden, their words slurred and drunken.

As Louis came further to, he realized the only one of them not moving was Tanner, and he whined as he inched his way over to his motionless form, gasping at the dark and sticky blood that incessantly poured from his ravaged throat. “Tanner!” he screamed to his fatally pale and wetly choking friend, panicking over what he could possibly do for him.

Before they could even request aid, Martin had promptly deserted the battlefield for Harry and Zayn to conquer themselves, and was sliding on his knees after a huge leap toward their location, halting to hover over Tanner’s dying body and speak frantically through his tears. “Tanner! Oh God, my baby, I’m so sorry. I’m gonna turn you, okay? Is that okay?” he sobbed, slashing his neck with his index claw when he received the weakest of nods from the wide-eyed and oxygen-deprived Tanner.

He dove down to press his neck to Tanner’s parted lips, ensuring that the drip of his blood fell to the back of his lover’s throat as he held a hand under his head to keep him in place. It was a tense couple of seconds of gasping and choking before Martin finally felt Tanner’s newly acquired fangs pierce his neck, and he pulled him into a sitting position as he cried in relief, petting Tanner’s hair as he chanted encouraging things into his ear. “You’re gonna be okay, baby. See, everything’s fine. Just keep going, you’re alright.”

The humans were blubbering messes, and Niall adamantly crawled away to get to Zayn by the front of the bus, desperate to be close to his lover who would luckily survive his attack—unlike Tanner, who nearly (actually) didn’t.

“Niall, come back!” Louis shouted, too out of it to realize that it was safe for him to separate because Harlock and Harry had just finished off their last fodder fighter. He took notice when the vampires ran up to them though, hollering desolately into Harry’s chest when his immortal crushed him in an embrace.

“Louixander, by the _Gods_ , I could have fucking lost you, please tell me you’re okay!” he rushed in a voice that barely sounded like his own, scouring Louis’ bite marks for any penetrated arteries.

“My Jenny!” Harlock lamented to their side as he reached his warlock, tearing strips of his own shirt off and tying them around Jenner’s bleeding wounds.

“I’m alright, Harlock,” Jenner coughed as he smoothed a hand through his immortal’s hair, wincing as the cloth rubbed at his injuries in all the wrong ways.

Martin and Tanner were still and silent after Tanner’s transformation, both wrapped up in each other’s arms on the forest floor and basking in the first few moments of their new bond to each other—a maker and their creation.

Louis stared at them out of the corner of his eye and furiously wrestled out of Harry’s startled grasp, considering all the near-death experiences that had just taken place, and impressively standing on two rooted feet as Alexander clawed his way through the fog of multiple endorphins, grabbing Harry by the throat and yanking him up to growl in his face. “ _Turn. Me. Now._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write, golly wolly. They just can't catch a break, can they?


	17. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand this is where I'll lose about half of you. *raises a champagne flute* For those who have made it this far, and have to leave now, it's been real. *clinks our glasses together*  
> Okay, well it has come to my attention that I may have been a bit TOO foreboding with this author's note. haha, no, it's not anything terrible lol.

There have been many times Louis Tomlinson has imagined being a vampire; even back in his childhood when he’d read scary stories about them that _should_ have turned him off from the idea. Vampires had just seemed so interesting _—_ like he’d want to have a sit-down chat with one of them if the situation ever arose. His imagery of what they would be hadn’t quite matched to what they really were, but he’d still skipped around the long hallways of his house with a pillowcase as a cape, flapping his “bat wings” and hissing at his Father whenever he passed.

As he’d grown, he’d lost interest in such creatures of lore. Still, he’d longed for a power above his own that he could utilize to take his bullies down; wishing he had some secret and impenetrable force that they’d never see coming. They would hit him, and this god-like strength would surge through his very bones, and when he’d hit them back, they’d go flying. Never to be found again. That had been his dream.

Finding such a creature in a foreboding mansion had been ridiculous, and sometimes even now, after everything he’d seen and come to know, he still couldn’t believe it. When fairytales come true, how are you supposed to feel? React? He’d taken it well, far too enamoured with Harry’s beauty to have room left for fear, or worse, some kind of disgust. He’d invited the idea in like it was completely logical, discarding every law of reality that society had set into place.

Stranger still, was the realization that he himself had been one of these creatures in the past. In another life. He’d known the Roman vampire in his life far longer than his birthdate of December 24th, 1955—shit, he’d been around before that wondrous creature had even been _born_. The creature whom he’d “accidentally” met in the creepy mansion that changed his life. As the secrets of time had spilled out, Louis had often wondered whether finding Harry was fate or a stroke of unbelievable luck. He figured it was a combination of both.

If Louis had done this on purpose—returned to his ancient lover, that is—then he had something to say. He was here for a reason; one that went beyond the obvious impulse for a rekindled love. Alexander had known things that regarded Harry which the Roman was oblivious of, and Louis needed these memories too. He needed them back. Stuck in a fight they couldn’t win without a clear vision of _why_ , they were doomed. But maybe, just maybe, if they had all the pieces together, that would be enough to sway the odds.

There was no way of knowing if that theory would prevail as truth, but there also wasn’t any time for a plan B. They’d barely escaped this costly battle with their lives, and next time they might not be so lucky...they couldn’t risk it again.

It was time.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his fearful and impassioned face nodding up and down in acceptance as he slowly removed Louis’ wrist from his neck. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll turn you...but first I have to help Zayn,” he said, supporting Louis’ uncoordinated weight as he walked to Zayn and Niall. He eased Louis down onto the grass and scooted up behind the catatonic Niall, making him jolt when he pressed two hands on his shoulders.

“Get off!” Niall screeched, flapping his arms like a bird while simultaneously trying to guard Zayn’s body.

“Niall—Niall! It’s me. It’s okay, it’s just me,” Harry soothed, making sure he was within the blonde’s line of sight so he could focus.

“Harry?” Niall sniffled, crying into his shirt when Harry nodded with a sweet smile. “Fix him,” he sobbed, shaking Zayn’s chest and gripping his torn shirt.

“He just needs your blood, okay?” Harry cooed, slightly lifting Niall up so he could move them closer to Zayn’s head, taking the blonde’s forearm and gently guiding it above his vampire’s lips. “This is the same thing that happened to Martin, remember?” he mentioned, disappearing from behind Niall to sit across from him instead.

“Okay,” Niall coughed; he really was trying to stop crying, he knew Zayn was going to be fine, but the recent events were quickly catching up to him, and the stress they brought was unbearable.

“Harlock, come here!” Harry called, waiting until his friend had arrived before going any further.

“What is it?” Harlock asked after jogging up to the quartet, his eyebrows furrowing with sympathy when he noticed Niall’s leaking face. Such a happy boy, and for him to be so sad…

“Niall’s already lost a substantial amount of blood tonight. He’s gonna awaken Zayn, and I know Zayn will know that too in the back of his head, but getting blood after something like this is like receiving water after days without in a desert. Watch Niall closely—if Zayn starts taking too much, stop him,” he said sternly, refocusing on Zayn when Harlock vocally promised he would do so. “I’m gonna cut you, okay? It might hurt,” he warned, extending his index claw and resting it in the middle of Niall’s forearm.

“I don’t care, I don’t care,” Niall brushed, impatient to get it over with. Harry could chop the whole damn hand off at this point, and it wouldn’t matter. As long as he got Zayn back.

“Alright,” Harry mumbled, concentrating on not cutting _too_ deep but deep enough as he dragged his nail down a little over an inch, Niall’s dark blood pooling from the wound and contrasting his white skin. He took Niall’s arm in both hands and flipped it down, resting it on Zayn’s slightly parted lips and standing to move away from the couple once he knew Zayn would get it all in.

He then turned to Louis and held out his hand, pulling the exhausted human up off the ground and into his chest. He allowed himself one small pause to hold Louis’ human self in his arms, inhaling the scent of the blood he’d come to worship, and when he’d locked it away, he kissed his lips, throwing all the emotions from their interspecies relationship into one gesture to bring it to a close. “Come on,” he said softly, leading Louis out of the clearing and further into the forest, picking him up when he wobbled too much and carrying him through the trees.

“I love you,” Louis choked, overcome with sentiment that didn’t seem to want to dissipate. No matter how he spun it, this imminent transition was still a huge deal, and even though he knew it was nothing to _fear_ , maybe some part of him was still nervous. Maybe he didn’t want to shoulder a constant urge to kill people, maybe he liked sunshine, and maybe he didn’t want to remember some of the things he’d forgotten during his soul’s journey to 1973.

“I love you endlessly,” Harry murmured in return, smiling against Louis’ hair and slowing his pace when he came to a rather aesthetically pleasing spot. He’d heard running water, so he’d followed it, and it had brought them to another clearing with a rock waterfall that lined a near vertical slope of land, the light trickle of the water splashing down into a wide and spacious pond, its surface glimmering like stars from the moon’s reflection above.

Louis gasped at the serenity of his turning place—he couldn’t have asked for anywhere better. He held tightly onto Harry’s upper body, savouring his last bits of humanity as Harry approached a flat rock under a ray of moonlight and situated him as one would a baby, tucked into the vampire’s lap and gazing at the sky. Harry’s hand grazed his face and Louis closed his eyes, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips; he couldn’t deny, regardless of his background hum of nerves, that he was the very definition of the word “tranquil.”

“Are you ready?” Harry whispered, smoothing Louis’ hair back with his palm and brushing his knuckles down his sculpted cheekbone.

Louis smiled and opened his eyes, instantly finding the bright irises of his one true mate sparkling with passion and undying love, and consequently wondering how there could _ever_ be a different answer than the one he had. “Yes.”

“Okay… Whatever you feel, whatever you sense, I’ll be right here, alright? I’ll be with you every step of the way. Forever,” Harry vowed, languidly bringing his own wrist to his extended fangs as he waited for Louis’ response.

“You’re stalling,” Louis breathed with a tired grin, his heartbeat thundering in his chest as it raced against the clock, apparently going for the world record of fastest heart rate before it would stop.

Harry snorted and bit deep into his wrist, his eyes never leaving Louis’ as he brought his immortal blood to the surface, the arm that had been around Louis’ shoulders popping him up to catch his head instead, presenting his wrist for Louis to feast on.

Louis stared hard at the black substance that would most certainly kill him—albeit bring him into another kind of life—and he bravely grasped Harry’s arm with both hands, biting into the bloodied flesh as if he’d gotten his fangs back already. The most indescribable flavour in the world assaulted his taste buds, and he only took one swallow before he couldn’t withstand the blast of power it inflicted, gasping and whimpering at the night sky as the rapid change hit him like a train.

His five senses immediately granted him the omniscient perspective he’d lived so long taking for granted, and it all happened in one, colossal instant. His ear drums opened up like he’d been stuck at a high altitude his entire life and was just now coming back down, allowing him to detect even the most reserved and muted of sounds that humans couldn’t begin to dream of distinguishing. The footsteps of tiny insects and critters roving the bed of leaves beneath their feet, the light clinks of tools as Harlock worked on fixing their damn bus, and the velvet brush of Harry’s hair as it fell from his shoulder, channeling the natural music of a coursing river.

His nose could pinpoint the bloodflow of every living thing on the mountain, pegging each source’s location with an infallible precision that amazed even himself. It had been far too long since he’d felt this good. His fangs grew back just as painfully as the first time, burning his gums and making his lower cheeks ache with delicious torment. The endorphin patches on the far back roof of his mouth formed with their familiar itch, producing the mind-numbing chemicals he’d be able to bestow upon his lucky victims, and all was officially back to normal.

“My love?” Harry whispered, taken by the notorious beauty of his immortal lover. He was so disgustingly in love with the creation in his arms, but he knew if Louis ever heard Harry refer to him as such, he’d lose a limb.

As natural as this all felt to Louis, it was still hard to deny the haunting emptiness that reigned from the death of his body. He groaned incoherently and shoved Harry’s arm away from his face, pulling him in by the hair to take his share of that sweet and heavily scarred Roman neck, burrowing his powerful fangs deep into Harry’s skin on the first place he’d ever bitten him. Harry’s reactive moan was louder than a wolf howling at the moon, but that wasn’t what shocked him—it was the startling realization that by excessively drinking from Harry as a real and true immortal, he was also taking in lingering amounts of Alexander’s blood. _His_ blood.

He was drinking his _own immortal blood_ —the remnants that had lived dormant inside Harry’s body for centuries—and with that knowledge, as his former Macedonian essence flowed back into his body where it belonged, so did his memories. Right where they belonged.

 

~~~

 

_“Going on a spree in Italy, do you wanna come?” Hadrian asked, in the process of dressing himself after he’d made insanely passionate love to Alexander for longer than either of them could have calculated._

_Alexander propped himself up on his elbows, pulling the blanket at his ankles up his body because after ingesting an entire vase of human blood, the cold temperatures of the wintered England were nipping at his skin. “Italy? Why do you insist on killing the humans in your home country? Why not try somewhere new like...I don’t know, Russia?” he suggested, pushing his sweaty hair back on his head._

_“It’s still a war zone over there...What, do you want the Russians to die or something?” Hadrian chuckled, pulling his tights up his legs and fixing his gaudy overshirt that weighed as much as Alexander. Fashion in the 15Endless’s had proven to be the most uncomfortable yet, and he sorely missed his Roman tunics that left plenty of room for basic things like moving._

_“What? No, I just...I just think you spend too much time on the Italians,” Alexander scolded, disappointed in Hadrian for never letting go of his selfishly subjective, highly malevolent resentment._

_“THEY STOLE MY CULTURE!” Hadrian cried incredulously, appalled that Alexander wasn’t seeming to take his side on this. Not like he ever did, but still..._

_“Oh, posh. They didn’t steal your culture, Hadrian. They have their own culture,” Alexander reasoned without a shred of sympathy, rolling over to lie on his left side and watch Hadrian fiddle with the buttons on his coat, resting his temple in his palm._

_“Well they stole my land!” Hadrian corrected petulantly, finally maneuvering the last obstacle of his clothing into place and striding to the bed wherein Alexander lounged, easing him onto his back so he could indulge in a taste of those sweet lips._

_“Yeah, how long ago?” Alexander challenged before contact was made, sustaining their conversation in lieu of giving in to pleasure like he wanted to. “This is something their ancestors’ ancestors and so forth did; you’re punishing the descendants for no reason.”_

_Hadrian pretended to think about it just to catch Alexander off guard, diving down and connecting their lips before the Asian King could wrangle away from him. Alexander sighed against his lips, and Hadrian sighed louder, both lovers’ hands tracing the lines of their favourite bodies on the planet. “Do you wanna come or not?” he asked once he’d gotten Alexander nice and distracted, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger._

_“How long will you be gone this time?” Alexander sighed, internally admitting that he may have lost this round (again); but there was always hope for the future. He’d get him at some point._

_“I don’t know...a week?” Hadrian guessed, unclear as to how long he even wanted to be gone. Time apart from Alexander was always a bit of a chore, but they’d been together now for so many centuries that a few days, or even the occasional week or two, was a mere half-minute of their time._

_“Week? Zeus...no, I’ll stay here—let you have your Italian-hating fun,” Alexander huffed, his mismatched eyes clearly having an effect on Hadrian because the Roman couldn’t stop gazing between the two in admiration._

_“I beseech thee o’ wise and gracious one,” Hadrian drawled with ludicrous dramatics, staring down at his beloved Alexander and documenting the exact image into his memory to rely on if he started missing him terribly._

_“Just get over here before I wipe Italy off the map for good and rob you of your grudge,” Alexander warned, the teasing tone of voice sending flutters to Hadrian’s beating heart._

_Only Alexander could amuse, arouse, fascinate, or frighten Hadrian to the highest degrees of those words; there was nothing else in the world quite like Alexander the Great, and Hadrian will never understand what he did to deserve him. “My grudge would only turn to you instead,” he said playfully in response, nuzzling their noses together and pressing tiny kisses on his lover’s adorable and hidden freckles._

_“Yeah well...unlike the people of Italy, I can actually handle you,” Alexander laughed, his hands sliding up from Hadrian’s shoulders to the sides of his neck. No matter how big and strong Hadrian thought he was, Alexander need only snap his fingers and bare his fangs, and Hadrian was on his hands and knees, begging over his shoulder for Alexander to go harder and faster. Oh, how the tables turn._

_“You wish,” Hadrian scoffed, accepting the kiss when Alexander pulled him in to steal one. “I’ll be back soon,” he said after they’d parted, leaping up and grabbing his sword to take with him just because he liked having it nearby._

_“Don’t be gone too long, alright? Or I swear, this time, I’ll be gone when you get back,” Alexander taunted, the undertones of the statement serving as his way of saying he’d miss the old Roman Emperor._

_“Empty threats,” Hadrian lilted over his shoulder, pausing at the doorway just to gander at his love one last time before his journey._

_Alexander shook his head and crashed down onto the bed, blowing his love a kiss and pulling the covers over his head so he wouldn’t have to watch him leave. “Empty promises,” he corrected, grinning when Hadrian chuckled into an air that audibly flourished with his departure._

 

_\---_

 

_It had been two days without Hadrian, and though Alexander had gone a lot longer than that before, it still felt a little empty in their home; too quiet. Too still. He’d only snuck out once to acquire a new vase for himself, and he’d tried his best to ignore the blood’s incessant call so he could stay moderately sober, but the temptation had officially become too great._

_He got up and downed the whole thing in one go, the instant rush of euphoric vitality almost knocking him off his feet. He roughly set the vase on the ground—amazingly not putting a crack in the aged clay by doing so—and stumbled to the bed, where he then flopped down on his back and panted at the ceiling through his agape mouth. The overwhelming flood of life was maddeningly arousing, and he found himself thinking of Hadrian; what the ancient Roman would do to him in this state._

_He didn’t consider pleasuring himself to be of any worthy comparison, but Hadrian wasn’t here, and wouldn’t be any time soon, so he submitted to his desperation and ran his hand down his naked torso, grasping his hardened cock and twisting his wrist as he moved the foreskin up and down his shaft, trying to imagine it was Hadrian’s hand and not his own, frustratingly smaller one._

_His back arched as his imagination progressed, easily accessing the overstock of personal memories regarding his and Hadrian’s physical relationship. He moaned into the dark room of their modest home, draping one arm over his eyes and biting his lip as he neared the edge of his climax. His hand sped up and he held his breath as he reached the peak, his toes curling as he came over his hand and cried out for Hadrian._

_Once the white-hot bliss had subsided, and he’d stopped twitching, he was now furious. How insulting it was for a King of Asia to have to please himself because there was no one else around to do it. As a human, he’d had countless outlets with which to satisfy his insatiable libido, and though he was more matured now, and in an eternally committed relationship, his desperate mind could definitely go for his trusty Bagoas right about now._

_Guilt washed over him as he recalled what had happened to that particular lover of his. After he’d been turned and taken his first sweet bite of a human, he’d gone too far...by the time he realized what had happened, Bagoas was dead. If he’d stopped sooner, maybe he could have turned him, but he’d finished the job too quickly. ‘I’m sorry, Bagoas,’ he thought to the Persian wonderboy, wiping his release off his stomach with the blanket and tossing it aside to wash later._

_He sighed as he brought his hands under his head, crossing his ankles and contemplating how he would spend the night; it had begun with such a clash that he felt anything else would only be a letdown in comparison. A downplay of the grand opening._

_As he was internally griping over his loneliness, he caught the scent of Hadrian’s pheromones, but he did not think to celebrate—he knew it was the altered version of Auron’s. He groaned in annoyance and prepared himself for the unwanted visit from the unappealing Aelius twin, their friendly relationship having plummeted after he’d smashed him into that wall and accused him of wrongdoings._

_Auron admittedly hadn’t done anything to prove Alexander right, and he was starting to wonder if he’d jumped to unfair conclusions...but something still told him to be careful around Auron, and he would not ignore an instinct. He wasn’t particularly worried anywho; he could destroy Auron and they both knew it. He could destroy Hadrian too, but that would obviously never happen._

_“Oh Lexy!” Auron sung after flinging the door ajar, taking a stroll around the corner and clapping in joy to find Alexander on his bed._

_“What do you want?” Alexander grumbled, looking over and meeting the darker pair of Aelius eyes._

_“Mmm did you recently come? I can smell it,” Auron goaded, taking a deep inhale of the potent air and outwardly sighing in relishing approval._

_“Ugh… You’re nauseating,” Alexander bit, subtly sneaking his cream coloured tights under the blanket so Auron wouldn’t get the undeserving privilege of watching him dress/viewing him naked._

_“You’re dead, you don’t get nauseated,” Auron pointed out, snorting at Alexander’s penetrating glare. “Why Lexy, you seem in a dastardly mood,” he noted, skipping over to an unused chair at the foot of the bed and planting himself down. “Oh, I get it...Hadrian’s gone, and you’re lonely. Do you want sex?” he purred, leaning forward and smirking at Alexander to his highest capability._

_“From you?” Alexander scoffed, laughing the very idea away. Sickening._

_“What?” Auron defended innocently, shrugging his shoulders and pacing around the room while he took note of Alex and Hadrian’s belongings, as if he hadn’t seen them all a hundred times before. “We’re twins, you know...besides the two separate beings thing, what’s the real difference?” he challenged, a ringed hand glossing over his crotch to allude what similarities he was referring to._

_“Why are you even here?” Alexander sighed, finally covering his lower half and discarding the blanket he’d hastily covered up with when Auron had neared his home._

_“Why am I ever here? To visit and spend quality time with you two. You're my family,” he said, his appreciative eyes dragging up and down the lines of Alexander’s shirtless body, discreetly scenting the air to catch the remnants of his recent orgasm._

_“We’re not royalty anymore, Auron. There’s no need to lust after family. Besides, you’re no relative of mine,” Alexander laughed coldly, tending to housework so he wouldn't be caught in an episode of undesired eye contact._

_“You’re incredibly sexy when you’re angry, Lexy. Sexy Lexy. But I’m sure Hadrian has told you this abundantly,” Auron said with a flippant flick of his wrist, a smirk teasing his lips every time Alexander bent over to pick something up._

_“Oh sure. Difference is Hadrian doing it doesn’t make me gag,” Alexander replied, missing his love more and more with each passing second because the presence of his identical brother instead was infuriating._

_“I digress. Can I stay here awhile?” Auron asked, giving the impression he’d accept a rejection when in fact, he was staying no matter what Alexander wanted._

_“Do as you please. Just don’t bother me,” Alex sighed, gathering his things to go out for the night and get some space between himself and the incorrigible Auron._

_“My company hardly bothers you. You only wish it did,” Auron goaded, taking up Alexander’s bed and getting his scent all over everything._

_Alexander stifled a merciless insult and rolled his eyes instead, stuffing his vase into a rump sack and tossing it over his shoulder. “Goodbye,” he said monotonously, stepping out into the cloudy night and not looking back once._

_Auron had become notorious for flirting ever since they’d been so close to each other when Alexander had brought up his suspicious outings, and he couldn’t tell if Auron was serious or just messing with him. Surely he held some amount of attraction to stare so shamelessly, but his motives were unknown. Conniving little devil…_

 

_\---_

 

_It had been three days with Auron so far and no sign of Hadrian’s return, but Alexander understood—once Hadrian got too deep in the slaughter, it took a lot to bring him back. Alexander’s only hope was that Hadrian was being careful and not drinking infected blood again, or constantly overdosing. He made the decision that if two weeks went by and Hadrian still had not returned, he would go out looking for him. This has happened a few times before…_

_The sudden hush of voices brought him into full consciousness, and he blinked his tired eyes in the underground room that he lived in when the sun ruled. He knew it sounded like Auron, so with a swiftness and silence that only an Elder superior to himself could detect, he climbed up to the main floor of his home, his senses directing him toward a window above Hadrian’s treasure chest of gold and currency._

_“Not that my foolish brother would ever see it coming...I’m ‘reformed’ now,” Alexander heard Auron say, inching closer to the window frame as the twin spoke quietly to a companion of his that had been hanging around the area for days on end. He probably didn’t know that Alexander was listening in, but he also didn’t have the senses that Alexander had._

_“When do we strike?” the friend asked, an excited twist to his words like he’d been waiting to ‘strike’ his entire life._

_“Patience, Michael. This needs to be handled with the utmost of care...you know Azazel won’t tolerate a sloppy execution,” Auron chided, Alexander pushing himself against the wall as he strained hard to hear every single noise uttered from the evil twin’s mouth._

_He’d learned early on in his and Hadrian’s relationship that his maker had been called ‘Azazel,’ and that one short confession was still the only time he’d ever heard the name spoken aloud. Just once, but he remembered it well—how did Auron know of Azazel?_

_“Well you’d better do it soon,” the other vampire huffed, turning to leave as their meetup was officially coming to its confusing close. “If you go back on your word, Azazel’s gonna kill you first.”_

_‘What?!’ Alexander screamed in his head, his mouth dropping open as the friend and Auron both made a hasty departure, gripping his shirt and backing away from the window in shock. ‘I knew it. I told him, I TOLD Hadrian he was trouble. I knew I knew it—Auron is our enemy,’ he thought frantically, his mind setting off relentless explosions from getting the proof he’d always been squinting his eyes for. Auron planned to kill Hadrian...and Azazel had something to do with it._

_“What do I do?” he whispered into the moonlit room, igniting all the candles he had to feel less vulnerable. He contemplated having a letter sent to Hadrian somehow, but there was no way that letter would ever find him—especially when the only address he had was ‘Italy.’_

_After a whirlwind of illogical ideas, he finally came to the conclusion that he’d have to take Auron out himself; that seemed like the only thing he could do to slow this plot down. He didn’t know where this elusive Azazel resided, and considering the only information he had on him was that he’d been an Elder when he’d turned Hadrian, he didn’t know if he’d be able to confront him. Technically he’d been an Elder himself when Hadrian had turned...but was Azazel older than him? Or was he around the same age? Hadrian’s meager descriptions of him suggested that he was already ancient, and if that was the case, Alexander alone wouldn’t be enough to destroy him._

_Hadrian and Alexander had kept to themselves all these centuries, so he couldn’t think of any dependable friends he could turn to for help; nobody he could bring on board who would be willing to face such disadvantageous odds. Whatever. He would start with taking Auron out—maybe then the plan would soil before it could commence, and he’d be able to warn Hadrian when he finally came back._

_If he came back._

_What if Auron was on his way to Italy right now in search of him? Had it already begun? He now figured he should go to Italy himself, but the moment he stood to cross the lands, the scent of Auron returned—accompanied by a sizeable group of Elders who were noticeably older than Alexander._

_His muscles clenched as they approached, their intent volatile enough to convince Alexander this was an attack. He had mere moments to configure what he could do, or where he could go, but this had happened too quick. They were here._

_His front door blew open like a tornado had given it a shove, and Elders surrounded him from all sides, gripping his every limb in a hold that not even he could escape. Their faces were void of emotion but full of drive; they knew who he was, and they obviously knew of this mysterious ‘plan.’ “Finally crawled out of your rotten hole, Auron?” he snarled as the power-hungry twin ambled in through the empty doorway, his cold laughter reaching Alexander’s fear in the pit of his stomach._

_“You astute and observant little rat,” Auron bit, stalking forward and grabbing Alexander by the chin, impervious to the extended fangs and warning hisses the Macedonian was furiously sending his way. “You knew all along, didn’t you? But Hadrian was a fool. He let me get close to you. It was just my luck that he left for Italy to go on a bender and leave you here by yourself. The Gods could not have timed this better,” he lilted, spinning in a happy circle and walking over to retrieve the vase of blood because he wanted to be alive for this._

_“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” Alexander growled, futilely fighting against the superior Elders that had unfortunately (for him) involved themselves in this mess._

_“Will I?” Auron snorted, tipping the vase back and swallowing the potent blood that would light the sparks of his high._

_“Hadrian will kill you!” Alexander promised, holding back the weak tears that formed against his wishes. He wasn’t afraid—or even angry that his death was near—he was worried for his wonderful Hadrian. The pain he would feel at losing Alexander would be enough to break him to the point of emptiness. Auron’s shot would be then._

_“I think I’ll leave you here,” Auron mused as though he hadn’t heard Alexander’s threat, gesturing his arm across the length of the floor and scratching his chin in thought. “That’ll be nice. I’ll stay here and keep you company for awhile. And then when my people inform me of Hadrian’s return, I’ll disappear,” he whispered, a theatrical swish of his arms to demonstrate how he would retreat into thin air. “He’ll come home to a most gruesome sight, wouldn’t you say? It’ll drive him mad. He’ll look for me, but he won’t find me. There’s no rush. Regardless of what you may have heard between Michael and I,” he added, letting Alexander know he’d been well aware of his eavesdropping. “Yes, you weren't nearly as sly as you thought. That's why I had to do this now. You know too much.”_

_“What are you plotting with Hadrian’s maker?” Alexander demanded, realizing it wouldn’t be a help to learn the truth if he’d never be able to bestow it to Hadrian._

_“Well I suppose you can know,” Auron shrugged, pulling a chair up to sit in front of Alexander’s constricted form, mere millimetres out of kicking range. “Or maybe I won’t give you the satisfaction,” he retracted, considering the pros and cons of unveiling his plan. “I’ll say this...Azazel is my maker too. And I’ll spare you the juicy details because I hate you, but if I kill my brother, I will become the most powerful immortal on the planet. The entire world will be mine,” he cried joyously, always turned on by the very concept of himself at the top of everything._

_“How could you possibly accomplish that?” Alexander inquired, stilling his fidgeting because he knew nothing would come of it._

_“Because currently, the most powerful being is Azazel. And as for me, he told me so himself,” Auron informed, marinating in the pleasure of Alexander’s confusion._

_“What does he have to gain from that?” Alexander reasoned, getting a strong suspicious that Auron was merely being toyed with by the twins’ maker._

_“Nope. That’s all I’ll tell you,” Auron quipped, drumming his fingers against his lips as he debated how to kill the magnificent Elder in front of him._

_“You’ll never kill Hadrian,” Alexander laughed indifferently, his body trembling as he chuckled at the very notion._

_“You dare be callous!” Auron snapped, rising up as he kicked the chair away behind him, the wood splintering and shattering against the wall it struck. “I hold all the cards here, and I know my brother well. Without you and your precious romance, he will gradually lose his will to fight; his will to live; he will hide out somewhere and sulk for centuries, and when the plan is put into motion, I’ll find him. He won’t survive when that day comes; by that time, I’ll have grown stronger than either of you can even begin to comprehend,” he vowed passionately, stepping right up to Alexander and grabbing him by the hair to tilt his face up and meet his eyes. “But of course, you won’t know that. You won’t make it past this night.”_

_“You don’t know Hadrian like I do. Being his twin doesn’t innately mean you know him or his heart. The vengeance borne from this will surpass yours before you can blink! He will never lose to you—”_

_“What about you! You’re stronger than Hadrian is, and I’ve caught you between my fingers,” he jeered, grabbing Alexander’s face with both hands to prove his point. “What makes you think I can’t do this to my brother?”_

_Alexander had to admit he had a point; if he could be overtaken by this amount of Elders and a diabolical twin, Hadrian could too—but somewhere in his soul, if he even had one, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Hadrian would overcome the odds. He knew the Roman Emperor would live on no matter the probability of failure; Aelius Hadrianus would succeed. “He’ll find a way. He will always find a way. You will never trap him!”_

_“I’m tremendously tired of this conversation now. In another life, we could have been great, Alexander. We would have been perfect...and maybe in the next, we’ll get the chance...but it’s certainly not in this one,” he said, pulling a dagger out from the holster on his hip and pricking Alexander’s temple with the sharp tip._

_Alexander’s eyes widened and he held his breath, every amount of hatred and fury he’d ever felt in his whole existence coming back to him within a single blip of time, giving him company and strength in these last few, utterly bitter moments. “Mark my words, Auron. No matter what happens to me, Hadrian will kill you in the end,” he hissed, sending every shred of love he could scour from his breaking heart to his cursed Hadrian, unbelievably petrified of his lover’s future anguish. He didn’t deserve it. Neither of them did._

_“It doesn’t matter,” Auron sneered, a gentle hand sliding down Alexander’s enraged face to take in the moment, a stark contrast to what his other hand would do. “So what if he does? I got to kill you first,” he whispered, resting his lips against Alexander’s forehead for a farewell kiss as he drove the dagger deep into his skull._

_Alexander flinched when his world shattered into excruciating pain, his vision going dark as fell forward into the depths of demise, his last thought being that he wished he’d fallen backward instead because ending up in Auron’s awaiting arms was not the ideal conclusion he would have chosen._

 

_\---_

 

_Darkness. Endless, bottomless darkness. Then...a light. The thing reached for the light, but it would not heed. The light grew to form a ball of translucent magnificence, and the thing wanted to capture it, but it slowly began to realize it was the light. The light was it. Upon that remembrance, the black air of nothingness erupted into countless beams of light, each shooting from the epicenter of the ball like walkways of enlightenment, connecting and spinning at blinding speeds until the thing remembered. It was Alexander._

_“My name...is Alexander,” he said, his original body falling from the ball as his environment transformed into an empty field of flowers, his back pelting into the ground as nothing broke his descension. The ball traveled after him, floating down in a zigzag line and hovering before his chest. “Are you my soul?” he asked the light, its responding shine confirming his suspicion._

_He held out a hand and let it hum against his palm, a warmth he’d never before felt igniting his skin as an ambiguous process began. His hand hurt and burned before long, and there was a vacancy in his chest that he knew ached for the soul he’d acquired. Without guessing the correctness of his assumption, he took the ball with two shimmering hands and pushed it against his chest with all his might._

_The ball dug inside painlessly, and the moment the two had become one, he understood everything. Alexander the Great. Leader of Asia. He remembered Hephaestion, Bucephalus, his mother and Father, Bagoas, Roxana, Hadrian...Hadrian and Auron. Azazel. ‘Where am I?’ he wondered, slow epiphanies presenting themselves into his consciousness, guiding the way to the truth._

_His soul had fled his body at the moment of turning, and had waited all this time for him on the other side. This much he knew. Did that mean Hadrian’s was around here somewhere? What is this place? Can he leave?_

_He looked around. His location didn’t match any religion’s prediction of the infamous “afterlife,” so he wondered if his spirit had created it on its own. There were no doors, houses, or roads; the field stretched on for infinity under the welcomed glow of sunlight, and while it was ethereal glory, he wished not to stay—but to return to Hadrian. Hadrian was in danger, and if Auron’s plan would prove fruitful, the world he'd come from as a whole was in danger. He couldn't stay here._

_But where can he go? Can he go back at all? He groaned in frustration, the sound of it echoing around him even though he was out in the open. Maybe if he could put his soul in an unborn child, he could live again in that world. Did they already have their own souls? How did this work? He dropped to his knees and fell forward, catching himself with his elbows and shouting into the dirt of the field, releasing all the frustration he’d accumulated during his last moments—before he’d been impaled by that wretched dagger._

_It seemed he had a lot of work to do before he’d be able to go back, and he didn’t even know if it was possible, but his sights were set. Living as Alexander the Great, there had been no feat too impractical to pursue, and as an immortal on land, that had remained the case. Even if it broke every law in the bountiful bosom of everything that ever was, he would get to his lover again. Maybe it wouldn’t be for centuries, and maybe Hadrian would met his end and find him here instead, but either way...he would find Hadrian._

_“Just you wait, Hadrian,” he grunted, pushing himself off the ground and sprinting through the grass without direction as fast as his feet would allow, determined to reach the edge of this magical place even if no such end existed. That’s just who he is. “We’re not done yet.”_

 

~~~

 

Then he saw how he’d finally found a way to peer into the world of the living, how he’d learned over time to send his soul back for another round. How he’d followed his bloodline as it grew and dispersed across the world; how he’d tried to be born close to where Hadrian was, but failed miserably every time because they would never meet, and he would only remember Hadrian after he’d died again. It had been the most frustrating series of trials you could ever imagine, and it took _thirteen_ sodding times, but when Harry had finally settled down in Idaho, he’d had a clear shot, and he went for it. It worked.

Louis wrenched away from Harry like he’d been shoved, tumbling to the forest floor and scrambling up onto his feet. Memories continued to pour into his head at maddening speeds, and he clutched his skull as he let them in. They flashed by in his crowded mind like an old reel of film, filling his consciousness with all the missing pieces one by one, but destroying him as they did so.

“Louis!” Harry cried, digging his knees into the dirt and holding his creation in his arms as he relived whatever had presented itself.

“Just one second,” Louis screeched rather calmly all things considered, his mental timeline now launched back to before his turning of his very first life as Alexander, experiencing the death of Hephaestion and Bucephalus a second time as he cried it out into his hands.

Harry just held him close, unable to even try and comprehend what his lover was going through. It was overwhelming to simply imagine, and he was upset he could not offer a release from the chaos, so he held him tighter to compensate. Before long, Louis relaxed, his mismatched eyes blinking open as he looked around his new _and_ familiar world. Before Harry could say a word, Louis flailed to get up again, and Harry helped him to his feet, stepping back as Louis began to pace the forest floor.

“I know _everything_ ,” he breathed, shaking his hands as though he were expelling water droplets from his skin as he pivoted back and forth in a fret.

“Everything?” Harry repeated, resisting the urge to touch his upset lover for fear of making his mania worse.

“Everything. I know things I _shouldn’t_ know. Things nobody should...I need to sit down,” Louis sighed, returning to the rock he'd turned on and falling onto the stone surface, almost laughing because he'd nearly broken the landmark from the force. He was definitely back.

He flexed his fingers and sharp claws shot out from his nails, and he grinned in approval as he turned his hands every which way, both brightly illuminated by the light of the moon like it was daytime _—_ just as things should be. “Oh that's _much_ better,” he moaned as he inspected his claws.

Harry was officially out of words. In lieu of the panic attack he'd expected from Louis in response to the overbearing edge that everything would adopt, he instead looked like he'd just woken up from a long nap...and perhaps he had.

Louis focused on his fangs next, rapidly dropping them down and pulling them back in with practiced skill, pushing out threatening hisses in the deep, serpentine timbre they were supposed to be in. He tongued at his grainy patches and then ran over the length of his fangs, chuckling low in his throat from all the enjoyment. “Mmm...I _missed this_ ,” he purred, standing up and stretching his arms above his head.

Before Harry could try to say something _again_ , Louis had flashed to the nearest tree and destroyed the entire thing with one blow, laughing maniacally as the surrounding greenery met the wrong end of his merciless episode of wrath. “Louis?” he asked carefully, trying again when he didn't get through at all, “...Alexander?”

“Doesn't matter,” his lover responded, finally having enough of the destruction and skipping giddily back over to plant himself on the original rock slab. “We're all the same. I can't believe I ever thought Alexander was a separate entity. It was just my locked memories that took on a mind of their own. _Gods_ what was I _thinking?_ Did you know we would actually _talk to each other?”_ he cackled, slapping his forehead over the gigantic misunderstanding he’d suffered these past few weeks. “I’ve had many names, Harry. Alexander was only my first. Call me whatever you fucking want, I don’t care. I like Louis a lot, and that’s my current one, so go for that.”

“It’s not often that I am absolutely confounded...but this has to be one of those times,” Harry said, his arms dangling uselessly at his sides as he slouched forward because his mind was working faster on thought than it was on physical movement.

“Come sit,” Louis suggested, patting the rock beside himself and beckoning Harry over with a clawed finger.

Harry stumbled over and sat down leadenly, taking Louis’ hand when it was offered and holding it in both of his, keeping it close to his chest as he stared in wonderment at Louis’ confident profile...he certainly knew a lot, that was evident.

“Azazel promised Auron that if Auron could kill you, Azazel would let Auron…‘take over the world,’” he sneered, still suspicious of that claim and its validity.

“I don't care about _any_ of that right now, Louis,” Harry whispered while he turned his lover’s face toward his, capturing Louis’ lips in a brutal kiss that spoke millions whilst saying nothing at all.

Louis gasped and melted to the kiss, pleased that Harry’s groping hands were able to use their full strength without hurting him. A surge of energy took Louis over, and he leapt out like a panther, launching the both of them onto the ground, where they then rolled around in a blur of fiery passion.

“I love you...I love you...I love you,” Harry said between kisses, not giving Louis the time to respond with anything but happy coos. When they’d spent more time than they should have without explanations, Harry departed from Louis’ lips with a loud smack, beaming down at him and joining in his bubbly laughter.

“I love you too,” Louis was finally able to profess, sitting up when Harry swung his leg back over to give him room. “If you don’t want to know about Auron, what do you want to know?” he asked, brushing the dirt from his knees that he’d acquired during their sensual rough-housing.

“Where you went. How you’re here. What happened. I don’t know, everything? Everything that has to do with you,” Harry rambled excitedly, reaching out just to touch the immortal Louis because it was so new but so right at the same time. Louis was indescribably perfect either way, and Harry was excessively smitten. The nonexistent butterflies in his stomach were more intense than when he’d first made love to the delectable and forgetful Louis, and that was impressive, because he’d been so nervous that night.

“Oh Gods, okay…” Louis said, clearly in deep thought as to how he’d begin. “Auron stabbed me in the fucking brain...and then I was in this weird world for awhile, just roaming around trying to find my way back. It was a field, and the sun was always shining, but I started to hate it there. It took me a long time, but eventually I found a...walkway? To some place else. It was really crowded and stuffy, and loud, but I could see this world like I was in a glass dome, and it was just outside…” he trailed, amazed that he’d been able to remember all of this so far. He shouldn’t be able to...it wasn’t natural.

“So we have souls?” Harry inquired shyly, like he was afraid of the answer.

“Yeah, we have souls. Yours isn’t with you right now. It’s on the other side. If you ever die here, you’ll go back to it,” Louis confirmed.

“But how? That doesn’t make any sense. If we lose our souls, how do we ourselves go back to it? It’s not even a part of us,” Harry reasoned, lost over the connection he had to his soul when he was just an empty body.

“You think I know _literally_ everything?” Louis chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and giving it his best guess. “I think it’s because our consciousness is still entwined...we just can’t access the spiritual part. You have to remember we’re special creatures. Humans just come and go as they are...we’re extraordinary. Immortal bodies with an intact consciousness and memories of being human the entire time we exist. Rules have to bend for something like that. Exceptions must be made. Our souls can’t ever move on because we’re still stuck here, and they are identically stuck on the other side. Like two parallel lines that can’t ever cross. Only when we are destroyed here can we return to them and start anew…”

“That’s...that’s _incredible_ ,” Harry gasped, his endless list of existential questions and ponderings suddenly answered in a single speech that had him holding onto the rock he sat upon like it would save him from falling off into some inescapable underworld of revelation below. “Wait...so you mean I could have just gotten myself killed this whole time to come and find you?” he asked, a bit peeved he hadn’t just gone through with assisted suicide like he’d considered for so many decades after Alexander’s death.  

“I don’t know that we would have ever found each other,” Louis admitted, a troubled look crossing over his features as he relived the fear of Hadrian killing himself and ending up somewhere lost in the maze of the otherworld.

“Why not?” Harry asked, impervious to Louis’ constant state of anxiety over the concept.

“Because! It was hard enough to find you here. You can’t imagine what it’s like over there, I...I came back _thirteen times_ , you don’t get it—I looked everywhere for you! Hoping and praying that you would just find me _one time_ , but I couldn’t fucking _remember_ why I came back when I did. I lived all these pointless human lives, some of which I died horrible deaths in, being reborn somewhere nearby you, as close as I could get within my bloodline—”

“Your bloodline?” Harry squeaked incredulously, holding a hand over his mouth as he grappled with that notion.

“Yes, my bloodline. I told you that Roxana had been carrying my son right around when I contracted the fever, yes?” he snapped, annoyed to go over something that was relatively simple in the grand scheme of things.

Harry kept his hand over his mouth and nodded his head, egging Louis to continue though he couldn’t yet respond. Not yet. It was too weird.

“Yeah well, after I turned and disappeared, she bore that child. We’ve talked about this before, Hadrian. I had a son. Also another son with another woman. Maybe two others, but I didn’t stick around to check. I was a slut, okay? After I turned, I left Macedon, and I _never_ looked back, but I had a family of humans traveling down the generation lines the whole time I was an immortal. Understand?” he asked with a bite to his words.

“Okay yes. Please continue,” Harry said, keeping all his thoughts inside his head until Louis was done. He was a _descendant of himself_. Pardon Harry for needing to think about that for a second.

“Right...so I followed my bloodline, but you kept fucking _moving_! Every time I died and remembered everything, you’d be in some other country, you selfish cow!” he roared furiously, actually slapping at Harry’s shoulder like it was somehow all his fault.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know!” Harry vehemently defended, catching Louis’ wrist to bar the attacks.

“Well of _course_ you didn't know. That’s why it drove me mad!” Louis griped, falling into a dead silence because he didn't know what else to say. He wasn’t mad at Harry in the slightest, but he was going through a lot right now, and the Roman asking unneeded questions wasn’t helping. They stared at each other with hardened expressions that fell away into enamoured awe embarrassingly quickly, and they instinctively scooted closer together, wrapping each other up in their arms and smiling until their cheeks hurt.

“I hope you can understand why I left,” Harry said as he pulled away, thumbing at the tears that had formed in the corners of Louis’ unique eyes.

“You just didn’t want to be alone, right?” Louis guessed, disheartened by the pain that radiated from Harry’s core as he geared up to confess the blackest parts of his heart.

“When I got back to that house…” Harry began with a shaky voice, a titanic wave of darkness cloaking over him as he saw unwarranted visions of Alexander on the floor, mismatched eyes staring at a ceiling they would never again see. “When I saw you…” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let himself speak of that moment, and he never would. Not in a million eternities. Never.

“Harry, skip it. I understand,” Louis murmured, his lips trailing over Harry’s shoulder to show his full support.

Harry sighed and covered his eyelids with the heels of his palms, finally making up his mind and dropping his hands down into his lap as he twisted to face Louis with a fresh spark of determination. “...After you were gone, I never stopped moving. I couldn’t. Nowhere I went was ever far enough away from that horror—the gnawing, sickening, searing pain of losing you. It was pure torture, and I ran from it like a coward,” he huffed, trying to step away from the rock before Louis yanked him back down.

“You weren’t a coward, Harry. You were hurt. I imagine myself in the same position, which...was relatively similar...and it was agonizing. So don’t tell me that—I felt it too. You were running away, I was running toward, but it was the same thing…” he stressed, letting it sink in for a bit so Harry could snip that regret like a twig. “Go on, then what?”

“Well...I went after Auron for a long time. I was going to tear him to pieces for what he did to you, and I still will, but back then, after following directionless crumbs from whispered whereabouts, and _never_ fucking finding him, I gave up. I found Martin around then instead, and I took him to America—by default, Idaho,” he explained, still in disbelief that he was able to talk this out with his lover instead of writing it down in a journal to be shoved into a shelf and never opened again. Getting this off his chest was surreal, and he almost felt like a new vampire by doing it.

“Idaho was a stroke of pure luck,” Louis noted with a sigh. “By some inexplicably orchestrated circumstance, my genetics ended up in Idaho. _Of all places_. You’d been stationary for a while, so I rolled the dice and came back. I was reborn in Fortwright to Stacey and Troy. Troy! Like the fucking place? With the Trojans? _Troy_? The idiosyncrasies of this conundrum are absurd! Can you even believe?” he vented, quickly steering himself back on track before he’d fall down that wormhole again. “I had no way of knowing if I’d ever find you in Idaho, even as close as we were, but…”

“But you did,” Harry finished for him, now completely convinced that they were fated to be together for all of eternity in spite of anything that could hope to separate them. What else could possibly explain how they’d come to where they are now? He was sure now that had he died, he _would_ have found Alexander in the otherworld without a doubt, but he didn’t bring it up for fear of warranting another negative reaction. “So...why did you look exactly like Alexander this time? Surely you must have had many different faces…”

“Honestly?” Louis laughed, abandoning all reason and logic for this one because none could be incorporated. “A fluke. A miracle. Fate or destiny. Some immaculate coincidence that we can just tack onto the list. For some reason, that male Greek descendant of mine and that Croatian woman combined gave me the exact same features of my first life. It’s illogical and ridiculous, but then again, so are we,” he groaned, able to admit the identical reincarnation was entirely impossible, yet he independently proved it possible regardless. The paradox of his existence will never cease.

“I’m sorry you suffered so many failed attempts at finding me, especially because a lot of that was my fault, but I know one thing for certain,” Harry said, nuzzling into Louis’ neck and grinning like a fool in love.

“And what’s that?” Louis mused, straining his neck back to meet Harry’s blazing green eyes.

Harry smiled and knocked their foreheads together, both hands coming to hold his beautiful Louis’ face as he whispered the answer onto his lips, “You got it right this time.”

Louis sobbed in relief, wholeheartedly agreeing with that statement and fumbling under the rock slide of knowledge. He could have very well missed his shot again, but something had pulled him to that mansion. Technically speaking, something had chased him ( _another_ Troy, how wonderful), but either way, he’d found it. The dots of opportunity connected and the curves of choice aligned to form one single, inevitable outcome, hurling him into Harry’s presence and letting them pick up right where they’d left off. “I got it right this time,” he repeated in a high-pitched whine, smashing his lips against Harry’s for what felt like the first time in centuries. He was back...he was home.

They kissed for a lengthy duration of time, soundtracked by the pelt of water into its designated pond, the nighttime songs of animals and critters, and their own soft moans. Despite what Louis had prepared himself for, the world and all its details weren’t overbearing in the slightest—he perceived it as he always had as an Elder. Turning was like stepping back into an old pair of shoes that had formed to your specific feet; it was second nature. Like breathing...if he needed it.

After internally griping over not wanting to, Harry broke the kiss, wiping his own eyes and standing whether Louis protested or not. As it were, Louis obliged, and they began the stroll back to the campsite they’d parked at, both anxious as to how their group was doing now that they could focus on something other than themselves. Give them a break, it was an intense conversation.

They ambled through the trees to give each other the mental time needed to face the events they’d fled from, simultaneously noticing that Niall had been turned at some point during their heated discussion. “Holy—”

“I know,” Harry agreed, both turning their lazy stroll into a one second dash toward the bus; though it didn't feel like a second. The world slowed to match their pace instead, little fireflies nearly freezing in mid-air as they bent the rules of physics and time, finally skidding to a stop at their destination and taking in the aftermath.

Zayn and Niall were bundled together at the front of the bus, nurturing what looked like a panic attack from the blonde, Martin and Tanner were in the exact same position they'd been in before—the butler appearing to keep Tanner calm by asserting unwavering eye contact with him, thereby directing his staggered focus into one single detail—and Harlock and Jenner were evidently inside the bus, the English vampire likely tending to Jenner’s wounds and helping him relax.

Zayn’s eyes shot to Harry and Louis when they arrived, and though he was trying to console Niall’s jittery shivering, his mouth still dropped open at the sight of them. “Louis, you’re...you’re an Elder,” he breathed, Niall actually gaining enough sense to inspect that claim.

“Of course I am,” Louis snapped, gently approaching Niall like he would a feral cat, true to the analogy by letting him sniff his hand. “Niall? Niall, I know it’s all new and probably insane, but I can help you. Will you give it a try?” he soothed, the baby vampire nodding eagerly with two giant blue eyes.

“What do you plan?” Harry inquired as Zayn helped Niall onto his feet, both immortals looking to Louis expectantly.

“He’s all pent up, look at him. Shaking like a leaf. He needs to let it out,” Louis explained, leading Niall a far distance away from the now fragile bus to secure the least amount of casualty. “Alright, Niall. Attack me.”

“What!” Niall barked, too terrified of the energy coiling in his body to direct it at his best friend.

“Niall. You're not going to hurt me,” Louis chuckled lightly, if a bit patronizingly.

“How are you sure?” Niall asked through chattering fangs, itching at his skin as he vied for a flowing bloodstream, overcome from the scent of Jenner’s blood in the air.

“Look at me. What do you see?” Louis reasoned, outstretching his arms and displaying just how calm and collected he was.

“Ridiculous amounts of power,” Niall replied, fighting the urge to cower away from the authoritative immortal before him; deep down he was still Louis, right? Niall had no valid reason to fear him...but he couldn’t deny Louis was scary as shit, and his instincts were telling him to tuck tail and run.

“I won’t hurt you, and you won’t hurt me. Now come! Before I initiate it,” Louis threatened, yearning for the upcoming tussle with every fibre of his being. Whether their duel would be significantly restrained or not, he still wanted to punch something, and what divine intervention it was to concurrently knock some sense into the wildly rattled, amusingly apprehensive Niall.

“Alright fine,” Niall whimpered, charging at Louis with the fastest speed he could produce, cutting through the air like a bullet and getting effortlessly slapped aside like a mosquito. Disorientated, he whipped around to stay on guard, discovering Louis was already directly in front of him and grunting in defeat—he knew where this led. Louis’ fist was reared back before Niall’s eyes had even focused, and Louis let it fly, colliding with Niall’s exposed face and catapulting him into the thick of the trees. He was shocked to feel trees breaking as his back crashed through them, but it was also incredibly empowering.

With a determination he didn’t know he had, he righted himself and ran straight back to Louis, desperate to land even one blow on the unmistakable _Elder_ companion. Yet after taking a shoed foot to the side when he was _sure_ this time he would succeed, he knew that imagined blow would not see itself landed. Louis was too good.

 

~~~

 

“So...what happened between you two?” Zayn asked Harry, chancing a glance at his best friend and rolling his eyes at the expression he found plastered on his face.

Harry had heard but he couldn’t answer yet—not with such breathtaking affairs afoot to devote his attention to instead. He was positively glowing with pride as he watched his lover fight with the famed agility and grace of his former status as an immortal King. It was as if no time had passed at all; no gap in vampiric existence. It was astoundingly impressive, bittersweetly nostalgic, and _unfathomably_ _erotic_.

It was like watching a dance; an expertly choreographed dance that celestially emphasized the hypnotic beauty of the immortal body and the flawless movements it could make. He followed and captured each motion with his superior vampiric eyes, flickering between the two opponents and giggling to himself.

Trees were exploding like bombs had been placed at their roots, and Niall was routinely soaring through the air to land with a tangible thump as he slid and tumbled his way back to a striking pose, but he did not waver once, and for that, Zayn was outstandingly proud. “He's gonna be great, I can tell,” Zayn sighed in admiration, the compliment falling on deaf ears as Harry swooned like a cat in heat.

Eventually, Louis conceded the sparring match, yanking Niall into his arms and patting him on the back for his courage and fierce perseverance. They skipped back to their lovers, Niall in much better shape than before, and were happy to see Tanner and Martin up and about.

“Pretty incredible, Louis,” Martin praised, pushing off the bus and guiding an exhausted looking Tanner to the group, just as Harlock and Jenner emerged from the interior of the bus.

“Well tonight certainly turned out differently than I’d anticipated,” Harlock noted, getting a look at the three new vampires to assess their comfort levels around Jenner, but ending up gawking at Louis instead.

“Yes, he’s an Elder,” Harry confirmed before Harlock had the chance to ask, the eyepatch immortal nodding curtly and situating Jenner at his front. “Louis, help them adjust,” he said under his breath, Louis flitting off to do what was asked.

Louis took Niall’s hand and led him up to Jenner, keeping a tight grip on his arm in case he tried anything. “You smell that? I know what you’re feeling, but you know how to avoid that? Don’t breathe. I’ll admit, being close to Jenner is going to drive you nuts eventually, and I promise I’ll take you hunting soon,” he informed, taking both Niall and Jenner’s left hand and bringing them together. “Now...do not, I repeat, _do not_ , touch a human like you used to be able to. Ever. You’ll break them. You need to treat them like the thinnest frosted glass you can imagine. Reel in every bit of your strength and keep it buried, okay?” he instructed, dropping Jenner’s hand into Niall’s flat palm and letting the blonde figure out how to grasp it gently.

Niall focused on the hand in his, treating it with the same caution he’d give to one of Marua’s Christmas tree snowflake ornaments that had been passed down through generations of their family, picturing her shrill voice in his head commanding him to be careful because if it broke, he wouldn’t get to open an early present on Christmas Eve. For reasons unknown, that seemed to work, and he lifted Jenner’s hand up and down with a tenderness he wouldn’t have expected from himself after battling Louis.

After he was approved of being safe around the only human left, Louis went through the process with Tanner, glad to receive the same competence from him as well. Once everyone was satisfied with their altered group dynamics, Harlock broke the silence, filling it with the only thing he had to say in that moment. “Good news! I fixed the bus!”

Laughter broke out amongst the battered and trialed creatures, eyes rolling all around as they boarded the bus in a single file line.

“What time is it?” Louis asked, his watch having broken and fallen off at some point in the mayhem.

“Uh...about eleven at night,” Zayn replied, double-checking the little watch in Niall’s bag to make sure. “Yeah, eleven.”

“ _Really_?” Louis implored skeptically, beside himself that only that much time had gone by since the vampires had awoken, the bus had broken down, they’d waited for Harlock and Martin to get back, gotten attacked, been brutalized, and abandoned their humanity to embrace immortality. Had that all happened in only four hours? Seriously?

“Yup,” Niall added, having peeked over Zayn’s shoulder to see for himself—no one could quite believe it.

“More has happened in less time,” Harry mused, his arms automatically snaking around Louis and pulling him into his lap as he fell upon a section of the couch.

Louis snorted in agreement and threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders, kissing him on the nose before turning to Harlock. “What’s the date?”

Harlock’s lips pursed as he thought about it. “May 20th.”

Louis’ reactive smirk commandeered his face, and every being was put on edge by the ambiguity of its meaning. “Is it? So tomorrow is the 21st,” he chuckled, ecstatic that he would see at least one of his fleeting human goals fulfilled. “Do we have enough time to get to Boise before sunrise?” he asked, Harlock snatching the map off the dashboard and opening it to find out.

“It’ll take seven hours,” Harlock said after some consideration. “That’s cutting it _really_ close, but yeah we can make it.”

“Good,” Louis quipped, snapping his fingers to get the show on the road, as it were.

“Why do you ask, Lou?” Harry asked, all for any plan made by his fantastic immortal lover. He’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and jump off if asked, though it had come to his understanding that the world is in fact a round, spherical orb. Still...

“Because—” Louis chirped with a saucy wink to Niall, the blonde’s eyebrows popping up as he debated what the fuck that meant, “—I have a music festival to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you know. You didn't think Louis was going to leave Mr. Carey hanging, did you?  
> Ps. Afterlife is really hard to even conceptualize, but I did the best I could. Also, I'm writing 18 rn, I'll get it out soon.


	18. The Golden Gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GREETINGS, LOVERS. ;)
> 
> The final, just one more time for you----  
> Come Back (Mother's Journey by Yann Tiersen): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8LJ8q_Bx4U  
> Vie à L'Intérieur (La Valse d'Amelie by Yann Tiersen): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO209GwYCr8  
> Year Endless (Rue des Cascades by Yann Tiersen): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6d014TiU7g

“You smell really good, Jenner,” Niall said, his tone pained and dense with struggle.

“Don't you _fucking_ dare!” Harlock snarled, leaping from the couch and angrily hissing at the blonde.

“Back off, he’s just a baby!” Zayn barked, hopping up as well and stalking toward Harlock like he was going to fight him immediately.

“Hey, enough!” Louis roared, adding himself to the standing immortals and rushing between the two to keep the face-off as it was before it turned into a brawl. The bus ride had frequently consisted of these kind of interactions, either Tanner or Niall gandering at the only human in their presence and making worrisome advances or comments. Louis was done with it. “Niall, stop breathing! Harlock, sit the fuck down, and Zayn, stop pretending like Harlock’s protective behavior isn’t justified! Those two have been drooling over Jenner this entire drive!” he commanded, pleased that none of the immortals were able to disobey his authority.  

They sat down one by one, and Louis muttered unintelligible curses in agitation, returning to Harry’s side and throwing his legs over the Roman’s thighs, closing his eyes for a well-earned period of relaxation.

“I’m a slave for you,” Harry purred into his ear, his adventurous left hand dragging down Louis’ chest to smooth over his groin, kissing up the side of his neck and chuckling deep in his throat as he went. “I want you,” he whispered, his arousal skyrocketing as high as it could go without the gift of life to affect his body. His mind had the erection for now.

“Well you can't have me. Not yet, anyway. None of us will be drinking Jenner’s blood I can tell you that much,” he said, meeting Harlock’s impassioned eye and smiling at the respectful nod he received.

“I know that,” Harry griped, gently pushing Louis down onto the couch while he climbed over him, lining their crotches together and getting all the contact he could, inhaling Louis’ neck like it was a drug. “I thought I would miss the scent of your human blood...and I do, but this is no disappointment. Your immortal blood is just as ravishing as it always was,” he moaned, grinding his hips down without a help to control himself.

“That's...because it's...partly the _same_ immortal blood,” Louis said in-between unsolicited gasps, fidgeting under Harry and valiantly denying his demanding impulses. Now was not the time.

“Oh yeah,” Harry quipped, lifting himself up to peer down at his love. “You took some of your own back, didn't you?” he concurrently realized, his eyes widening in wonder.

“You just got that?” Louis chuckled, his hands idly gliding up and down Harry’s arms.

“That's...a bit of a mindfuck,” Harry stated, a lopsided grin taking over his lips, displaying one perfect, glinting fang. “I can’t wait to get in-between these legs,” he taunted as he lowered himself down, going straight back to his initial intention. “I will _ravage_ you.”

“Do not...sexually provoke me, Harry,” Louis snarled, his claws digging into Harry’s shoulders as his back involuntarily arched off the couch. “You won't fucking like what happens.”

“That's just it, my love,” Harry crooned, his devilish smirk doing its job and poking holes in Louis’ defenses. “You know I will.”

“Maybe don’t tempt Louis?” Martin suggested from the driver’s seat, Tanner atop his lap in such a position that he wasn’t blocking the butler’s view of the road. “I know he has control, but even the strongest of immortals can lose themselves in desire. We’ll all be powerless if he decides to take from Jenner.”

“Don’t lump me in with some starved and indulgent toddler,” Louis barked, Harry crushing all of his weight down on top of him so he was at least somewhat constricted. “I’m the only thing here _protecting_ that warlock. You should spend more time focusing on your own creation, and less on me,” he bit coldly, Harry falling deeper in love by the second from being refreshed with Louis’ iconic attitude. It had only come out occasionally before—before he’d remembered who he was—and Harry was oozing with merriment to hear it return full force.

“I’m okay, I swear,” Tanner vowed, Martin patting him on the back in support.

“I know you are, I’m sorry,” Louis sighed, letting his temper evaporate like it evidently needed to. He couldn’t help it—Harry was mercilessly teasing him with sex they couldn’t yet have (that the Roman would sorely pay for), he was manically desperate for a slaughter spree because he needed to put these fangs to the test and find out what his revived endorphins could do (along with his lure), he wanted to be alive and he wasn’t, and he was itching to disembowel Auron Aelius for continuously fucking with his susceptible human body, consequently putting unneeded stress on his and Harry’s relationship for the last two weeks.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Harry murmured as he flipped them over to position Louis on top, unable to stop his hands from crawling up the back of his shirt.

Louis’ arms gave out and he crashed down on his Roman’s chest, breathing in his scent and nuzzling into his neck. “I'm thinking about...the music festival,” he said, lifting off a smidge and sliding Harry’s shirt up between them so he could run his fingers over Harry’s nipples.

Harry shuddered at the touch and gently traced the sides of Louis’ spine with the tips of his claws, turning his face so his lips were at Louis’ ear. “You're lying,” he whispered with a smile.

“Alright,” Louis laughed, diving down and taking Harry’s left nipple between his front teeth, releasing it when Harry genuinely squeaked. “I'm thinking about killing people.”

“Mmm…” Harry hummed, biting his lower lip when Louis continued to do wonders to his chest with his tongue. “Anyone specific?” he asked, almost whining when Louis’ head popped back up, thereby withholding those maddening sensations.

“A few,” Louis mused, his tongue traveling next up Harry’s jaw to just below his right earlobe. “And the lucky participants of my first blood-craze in three hundred and seventy-four years,” he added, softly breathing into Harry’s ear because he knew it drove him nuts.  

“Fuck—Jupiter,” Harry cursed, his ear and shoulder colliding to protect himself from Louis’ heartless teasing. He couldn't deny he was guilty of the same crime, but that’s a particularly sensitive area and Louis should know better. “Murder always did get you going,” he purred, slapping two hands onto Louis’ arse and crushing their pelvises together while he groped at the thickness in his palms.

Louis inhaled through his teeth and whimpered, dropping his forehead onto Harry’s chest and going along with the grinding because it was too exquisite an action to stop.

“Are you really gonna kill people?” Niall then asked, breaking their heated moment in the most obnoxious way possible.

“Wha—?” Louis breathed aloud, sitting upright and making subtle back-and-forth rolling motions with his hips as he straddled Harry’s.

Harry simply couldn’t hold back the pleasure and he let it out into the interior of the bus, an animalistic, guttural moan vibrating his throat as he gripped Louis’ hipbones with fervor. He luckily went ignored by his company, so he continued to touch and caress Louis like no one was watching.

“I mean...I don’t know. You _want_ to kill people? Can’t you come alive without doing that? Like these guys have been doing to us this whole time?” Niall reasoned, a bit off-put because his best friend wouldn’t normally condone—much less actively plan and be giddily eager for—senseless murder.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Louis said rather cryptically to his best human friend, his voice revealing that murder was highly enjoyable even if he didn’t explicitly say so.

“What, so you turn and now you want to be a predator?” Niall asked, his thoughts taking him back to the evil vampires they’d narrowly escaped at the campsite. Thinking of Louis as one of those immortals was unnerving to say the least, and Niall didn’t think he could go along with a decision like that.

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be the pacifist?” Harry lilted from beneath him, displaying the most shit-eating grin when Louis looked down.

“Quiet, you,” Louis ordered calmly but definitively. “I generally abhor blood-crazes, yes. I’ve pulled _your_ fangs out of quite a few necks in our time,” he reminded with a hard edge to his tone, though Harry knew he was still in a good mood. “I can drink without killing, if you care so deeply about it,” he amended, staring Niall down and daring him to find a fault in that. It was a lie anyway—Louis was going to go on the biggest blood bender of all time when he had the chance. He deserved it. And by the sharp stabs of Harry’s claws into the tops of his thighs, he knew the Roman’s inner dialogue was dwelling in the exact same place. They both wanted to hunt and feast as a team again. Together they were unstoppable.

“Now I'm nervous to drink blood…” Niall said, wondering if he would suddenly up and kill people too like everyone else here has...besides Tanner, that is.

“I don't mind. Humans are terrible,” Tanner quipped from Martin’s lap, referencing the abuse he'd received as a foster child. If he could kill anyone in particular, he'd start with his old foster Father, Mike, and then he'd go from there, ripping the hearts out of every family he'd been forced into. They'd have it coming...

 _Well there goes Tanner_ , Niall thought, sighing into the bus and snuggling back into Zayn’s relaxing frame. “How many people have _you_ killed?” he asked, crossing one leg over the other as he peered up at his awkward lover.

“Uh…” Zayn faltered, a never-ending line of death count racing through his memories. “I haven't in a very long time,” he assured, clearly not pleasing the blonde one bit.

“Face it, Niall, you’re the last rose on the bush,” Louis chuckled, extending his fangs and claws to appear as menacing as possible. “ _Surrounded_ by thorns.”

“Oh, you’re not ‘thorns,’” Niall negated at once, rolling his eyes and giving the Elder Louis an apologetic smile. “Maybe I’ll be a...well, it’s not vegetarian...maybe I’ll live off blood bags like Harry and Martin did all those years, but that’s my choice. I shouldn’t challenge an Elder such as yourself, I’m sorry,” he appeased, a deep bow expressing his regret at picking a fight with the recollected Louixander.

“Forgiven. But try to refrain from placing judgment and scorn on my actions as an immortal. That goes for all of you. You may not like some things, but I’ve earned my right to treat this world how I see fit. I will do as I please,” he said, falling back down and giving Harry his full, undivided attention.

“My beautiful and terrible monster,” Harry praised as he squeezed him as tight as he vampirically could, giggling because Louis’ body had become sturdy enough to withstand it. “The sight of your slaughter will unravel me,” he said so quietly it was practically mouthed, but of course Louis picked up on it.

“The feeling is mutual. Side by side, just like old times, huh?” Louis smirked, beaming down at his Roman and thanking whatever had put him in that field for showing him the way out.

“Quite...although there is one thing,” Harry retracted grudgingly, upset he even had to bring it up. “Times have changed. It isn’t as easy as the old days, and everything is out in the open. People are always missed now,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows when Louis laughed like a hyena. “What? I’m serious. You can’t just go leaving people on the street anymore—”

“Harry!” Louis snickered, holding a hand over his mouth to stop his babbling. “Are you forgetting who I am? I’m a 60’s baby! I am well aware it is 1973, I grew up here. Just because I have the memories of all of my lives does not mean they overshadow this one—I’m in this one right now! I had a childhood, an adolescence, my first word was—”

“Okay okay,” Harry laughed, his neck arching off the couch as he lost himself to the hilarity, but promptly lying back down when a secondary and offhanded thought surfaced. “Wait...what was your first word?” he asked, very curious as to what the human Louis had come up with on his first try at conversation.

“My first word was ‘Look that way,’” Louis said with a stretch of his left arm, pointing to the middle of the bus.

“What?” Harry deadpanned in complete confusion, looking to where Louis had gestured and instantly feeling stupid when he finally understood.

Once Harry’s neck was fully exposed, Louis extended his fangs at lightspeed and slammed them into his skin, right over another bite Alexander had made on the top of his shoulder, determined to redo every bite on his body at least once.

“Ngh! _Yesss_ ,” Harry hissed, his right arm falling away from Louis because he lost all the strength to hold it up, his hand smacking onto the floor with a loud thump as he released one continuous moan.

Louis chuckled against his neck and lifted him halfway off the couch with a strong hold under his shoulders, Harry’s head lolling back powerlessly because he’d turned into a walking, talking form of jell-O. He didn’t drink that much while Harry wasn’t alive for obvious reasons; this was more to flood the Roman’s system with his newly acquired endorphins; watch him crumble like a cookie left in milk too long.  

“Louis—this is—torture,” Harry choked and slurred, each of his individual senses hopelessly blurred as if he were miles below the surface of an ocean, frustrated beyond comprehension because as one of the dead, he couldn’t climax. Only the living climax. And that wasn’t currently (ever, but _especially_ not now) fair. “Please. Please let me go,” he rasped, pitifully unable to wriggle out of his lover’s predator-to-prey entrapment, just as it had been intended. “Let me go.”

Louis conceded his power play and pulled out of Harry’s neck, staring at the puncture wounds until they healed and instantly scarred of their own volition, the afflicted immortal taking far longer to recover himself. “Is my baby overwhelmed?” he cooed in the sweetest tone available, pressing tiny, rapid-fire kisses all over Harry’s red and puffy lips.

A nonsensical groan was the only sound Harry could emit, but he was proud to say that he raised his arm back up to throw around Louis’ back and hold him close as he came down. It was an impressive feat in his condition. “How do you do it?” he wheezed, marinating in the highest high he'd had in almost four centuries.

“Because it's me. You would stop time for my endorphins,” Louis answered, acting the role as the untouchable pinnacle of dominance when in fact, he'd do the same for Harry’s, if not more. They were both perfect in the other’s eyes, and nothing on Earth could ever make them feel like they did when they were together.

“If only I could,” Harry agreed, now recuperated enough to sit upright and settle Louis in his lap, turning him sideways like he was Santa Claus, about to ask Louis what he wanted for Christmas...like he'd get anything, though—he's naughty as all Hades’ lair. “If I could stop time, we'd get out of this bus, go find some blood, and devour each other until one of us couldn't take it anymore,” he said lowly, going in for a kiss when they were interrupted. Again.

“Okay, I'm sorry, but listening to this is turning me on too much to think, and Zayn can't do anything about it because I'm dead now. And before you snap the solution at me, no, I cannot block it out,” the baby Niall griped, an obvious heaviness in his desperate eyes.

“Mmm, I'm sorry you must suffer this fate as I have,” Zayn mourned, tightening his arms around his creation and letting him scent at his neck for comfort.

“Sorry, Niall,” Louis said genuinely; he knew firsthand how maddening it was to be so aroused and have no outlet to release it without life. Teasing the whole bus not been his intention by any means, but it was hard to remember anyone else was even here when he had his precious Harry in his arms or under his fangs.

“When are we getting blood?” Tanner asked, shyly peeking over Martin’s shoulder because he didn't want to get yelled at for being so insistent.

“Soon, my angel,” Martin soothed, clucking his neck forward to smack a kiss on Tanner’s cheek before twisting around to check with Harry if he'd just told the truth or not. He didn't make the plans.

Harry shrugged and pointed his thumb back at Louis to say the Elder was ultimately in charge, immeasurably relieved that he'd been relinquished from his curse of being the highest order. Don't get him wrong; he could already see and hear the vicious arguments between Louis and himself over whose word was the final...but it was nice to disassociate from the responsibility for the time being.

“Relatively soon, yeah,” Louis assured, truthfully reaching his own limit as well. He'd do his music festival, then they had a few more duties on the list, and _then_ it was blood time. “Besides, a classic mistake of fresh turners is a binge off the bat. You need more time than you think to come into your enhanced abilities and senses; blood _should_ be the last thing on your mind, but I know it's not. Still, if you learn to control yourself by and _regarding_ yourself, you can better control yourself around others...does that make sense?” he asked, disinclined but willing to dumb it down if necessary.

“Surprisingly yes,” Niall piped, wholly unbothered to accept the terms Louis had set. “Being dead is traumatic, and it seemed impossible earlier, but I'm kinda getting used to it. I don't think I need life back,” he said without a shred of confidence, still haunted by the emptiness in his chest.

Every immortal besides Tanner snorted collectively like a pen of pigs, and Niall puffed his chest out in defense, opening his mouth to fire back when Louis beat him to it.

“Let’s see if you still feel that way after you've had your first feeding,” the Elder patronized, one more condescending remark away from feeding the blonde pea soup in a high-chair while pretending his spoon hand was an airplane.

“Sometimes I hate you,” Niall groaned, narrowing his eyes at Louis until he remembered who he was glaring at, slapping his forehead and grimacing in shame.

“Niall, it's still me,” Louis sighed, getting off Harry’s comforting lap to console his friend. He knelt down before him and rested his hands upon the blonde’s knees, waiting until he peeked out from his hands.

Niall dropped his arms down at his sides and gave Louis a shy smile, happy to hear such a familiar tone come from the supreme creature. “You're a bit different...but I know it's you. Your sassy attitude can't be denied. It's the—the scent you give off that's—that's terrifying,” he stuttered, pointedly _not_ breathing for that purpose.

Harry sniffed the air obnoxiously loudly, several heads turning to him, including Louis’, as he shivered in approval. “Really? Terrifying? I must politely disagree...that scent is _pure sex_ —”

“Harry,” Louis deadpanned, gesturing to Niall with his head as if to remind Harry who they were dealing with. “Don't you think you might be a bit biased?” he reasoned, both brows raised with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“What? Is it not to everyone what I smell?” he asked, looking around at his company for answers.

“It's really strong,” Zayn admitted, a small shrug lifting one shoulder because it was kind of embarrassing to admit after being around the human Louis so long.

“What about you, Martin?” Harry asked, turning his face the other way to gauge his butler’s opinion.

“Well...I certainly wouldn't challenge him, that's for sure,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, Tanner nodding along to give his two cents to the subject.

“Harlock?” Harry addressed next, thinking that maybe another Elder would have a less adverse reaction to Louis’ pheromones, however young the eyepatch vampire still was to the two of them. However, as soon as he glanced at the back corner wherein Harlock and Jenner resided, he found them both to be fast asleep, curled up together on the couch like it was somehow comfortable. _Huh. No wonder I haven't heard from them._

“Harlock would probably agree with us anyway,” Zayn guessed, pleased to see him and his warlock were getting the rest they deserved after being such great helps during the day.

“Well shit...more heaven for me,” Harry purred happily, a lazy hand rubbing back and forth across the width of his chest as he looked the crouching Louis up and down.

“This heaven’s _all_ for you,” Louis vowed, standing up slowly with raised hips first, giving Harry quite the show of the curves his body formed.

“Sweet Jupiter in stars, you are _tantalizing_ ,” Harry moaned, flying off the couch to capture Louis in his arms and flash back to their seat.

“Man, you two never quit do you?” Niall chuckled, slouching down under Zayn’s arm and entwining his fingers with the hand that was hanging down over his shoulder.

“No, and we never did,” Louis confirmed, pushing his back off Harry’s chest and draping his legs over the outside of Harry’s, arching his lower back to give Harry an amazing view of his arse should he look down between them.

Which he did. “You're going to put me in my grave,” Harry whined, brushing his fingertips up Louis’ thighs and sliding them inward to explore that undeniable softness, even through the material of his jeans.

“I hope not,” Louis laughed, a wave of drowsiness coming over him suspiciously suddenly. “Hey, what time is it? It's getting relatively close to sunrise…”

“We're almost in Boise,” Martin said from the front, reversing the temporary nerves that had spread through the passengers of the bus.

“Oh good,” Louis sighed, yawning and leaning back into Harry, yipping when the Roman fell sideways with Louis tight against him and crash-landed onto the seat.

“Nap time,” Harry cooed, twisting their legs together and shoving his hand up Louis’ shirt to maintain at least some skin contact.

“You're finally not freezing cold anymore,” Louis noted with relief, cuddling back even closer and closing his eyes to indulge in the nap Harry had in mind.

“You're not a space heater anymore,” Harry replied, finding this dynamic better regardless because it didn't cause any discomfort to his lover.

“Mmm. We’ll warm ourselves up soon, love. Wake me up when I need to go onstage,” he said to anyone listening, soon falling fast asleep wrapped in the arms of his cherished Roman. It was admittedly an early bedtime, but he'd had a big and incredibly eventful night by anyone's standards, and it had taken its toll. And besides, when you're being delicately spooned by Harry Styles, your consciousness doesn't have much of a choice—it's a lullaby in and of itself.

 

~~~

 

\---

 

Mr. Carey unbuttoned his mustard yellow and brown argyle sweater vest and then frantically buttoned it up again. It was getting close to the first roll call, and he hadn't seen his favourite prodigy in weeks, but something still told him that he'd be here. Call him crazy, but he knew Louis would make it here.

Regardless, that wasn't an easy thing to try and promise to the facilitators of the festival. He was routinely breaking out in a nervous sweat over Louis’ name getting crossed out once they found out he wasn't here yet. He held his breath as the young lady with a clipboard called out the last name “Tomault,” suspecting that Louis would probably be next. What should he say, what _can_ he say, what if—

“Louis Tomlinson?” she called, breaking Mr. Carey’s inner turmoil with a sledgehammer.

“He’s in the bathroom!” Mr. Carey cried desperately, the edge in his voice bringing the girl’s eyes from her clipboard to his face.

“The bathroom?” she repeated, her pen hovering over his name slot, unknowingly holding all the power to lift Mr. Carey _off_ the train tracks of heartbreak, or hit him with the train herself.  

“Yes, bathroom...he’ll _be here_ ,” he emphasized, mentally slapping himself for sounding so damn suspicious.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows for a second, likely debating the legitimacy of his claim before ultimately shrugging her bony shoulders, putting a check to Louis’ name, and calling out the next one like nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Mr. Carey sagged in relief, keeping calm as the names dwindled down to the small handful of ‘Z’ lettered ones; once the nerve-racking list finally ended, the roll call girl snapped her pen under the clipboard claw and skipped off to leave them alone until the show began. Mr. Carey gulped and wrung his hands together as he stared at the nearest clock that displayed 5:45, taking a seat on one of the many fold-out chairs in the crowded practice room and wiping the lenses of his glasses with his vest because they’d actually fogged up from all his physical stress. “Oh, Louis,” he whispered, pushing his glasses back on his nose and refusing to care that they were now smudged beyond help. “Where are you?”

 

~~~

 

\---

 

“Louis? Louis. Hey, Louis,” the Elder heard, slowly egging him out of a sleeping period that was much more equivalent to a coma. As he came to and inhaled the air to instinctively study his surroundings, the scent of blood assaulted his nose, and he snapped his eyes open as his fangs dropped of their own accord, lunging out for the source of the smell with a predatory hiss.

Harry shot awake at the sound of Louis in attack mode and he assessed the situation in a split second, yanking Louis back just in time for Harlock to whisk Jenner away from him. Louis struggled against him and tried to break free, but Harry wouldn’t have it, throwing his leg over Louis’ hips and hanging onto him like a koala. “Louis! Come on, babe. Wake up!” he shouted, aware that Louis was still in a state of autopilot, conscious or not.

Louis heard the words and they confused him, so he froze all movement and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the blaring traits of the world. After some dedicated concentration, Louis understood where he was and who had woken him, and he wasn’t too pleased with himself.

Louis started wiggling again, but Harry quickly realized it was to turn over, so he released his grip to allow it, sheltering Louis in the crook of his neck when the Elder burrowed into it in shame. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. He’s okay; you didn’t hurt him,” Harry cooed, petting Louis’ hair and running the hand stuck underneath him up and down his spine.

“I could have,” Louis groaned, upset that for all his high and mighty preaching, he was still susceptible to rabid vampiric behavior.

“It’s alright, Louis,” Harlock forced, taking the supportive route regardless of how much he wanted to punch the Elder in the face.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have stood over you like that. Not when you’re sleeping,” Jenner admitted, his meek form of self-blame bringing Louis out of his safe space.

“Jenner, it’s not on you,” Louis said as he twisted around to face him, pushing himself upright and leaning back against Harry’s horizontal torso. “I’m an Elder, I should know better.”

“You haven’t been an Elder in nearly four centuries, babe. Cut yourself some slack,” Harry reasoned, snaking an arm around Louis’ hips while he propped himself up with his other elbow. “Plus, your nature is fiending for blood, like it or not. You haven’t come alive _once_ yet,” he added, yawning into his fist and taking a look around. “What time is it?”

“Exactly. We forgive you, so you need to as well,” Jenner added, checking Niall’s watch that had been set on the dash for the secondary question. “7:50,” he informed, looking back at Louis to make sure that didn’t mean he was already late.

“Oh good,” Louis mumbled, walking over to the back of the bus to find his bag and change his clothing for the first time in too long.

Harry watched him go and shot an apologetic look to Harlock for the conundrum, relieved when he got an understanding nod of acceptance. He then joined Louis in the back, sidestepping the heavily kissing Zayn and Niall who hadn’t finished dressing themselves, and ran his hands down the naked skin of Louis’ back. “It’s a crime to conceal this body,” he murmured against his neck, his fingers trailing across Louis’ lower stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

“ _Down_ , boy,” Louis laughed, committing the crime mentioned and wrangling a new shirt over his head, pulling it down his torso as he spun around to hook his wrists over Harry’s shoulders. “You can get the pants, though,” he said with a wink, determined to be as cruel as he possibly could to Harry’s libido.

Harry narrowed his eyes to slits, glaring as contemptuously as he dared while he knelt down to the ground, his face slowly tilting upward until Louis was towering above him. “Yes, my King,” he muttered, glancing at the metal button in front of him and lifting his fingers to undo it.

“Nuh-uh. With your teeth,” Louis specified, holding back his laughter at Harry’s pained expression. “Do it,” he commanded, grinning when Harry bobbed his head to catch the little corner of his pants in his teeth. He popped it open and looked up for more instructions, stroking Louis’ ego like it was an erection. “Zipper too,” he added, smirking as the order was fulfilled.

Once Harry had bent to that ridiculous request, he let his hands do the rest, easing the denim material down Louis’ soft legs and pressing kisses to his thighs as he did so. He helped Louis step out of the pants at his ankles and then wrapped his arms around the Elder’s hips, nuzzling Louis’ groin with his face and earning a satisfying gasp.

“Okay, I get it, you can tease me too,” Louis admitted, quickly yanking his fresh pants up to his waist before anything worse could happen.

“Endlessly,” Harry quipped, jumping up to his feet and clapping his hands together to engage the imminent event. “You guys ready to be amazed?” he asked to the group, seeing eager smiles all around and chasing the prideful butterflies in his stomach with a two tiny sized nets.

“I’m up for it,” Tanner said with an anxious grin, working hard to ignore the fact that he’d soon be stuck in a room with a bunch of humans while he was still getting over the call of Jenner’s blood.

“You’ll be fine,” Martin murmured under his breath, giving an easygoing pat to his lover’s side. “I’m your maker. You can’t disobey me if I make it so,” he informed, a smug expression on his freckled face, his green eyes gleaming with superiority. He’d been the creation of the dominant Harry Styles for so long now that he hadn’t even thought to imagine being a maker himself, but now he was. He had a creation of his own now, and finally held some measure of inherent authority—he was going to abuse the fuck out of it.

“I wouldn’t dream of disobeying,” Tanner breathed in adoration, attacking his maker’s lips because he couldn’t be expected stop himself.

“Well I’m definitely up for it,” Louis said, allowing the butler couple their sweet moment and slipping past them to exit the bus, stepping out onto the community center parking lot and breathing in the humid night air.

Harry appeared behind him, followed by the everyone else at their leisure, and the Roman spanked Louis’ arse right in the center, making him jolt as though he’d been electrocuted.

“Hey!” he snapped coyly, obscenely rubbing at the inflicted area just to string Harry out further. There was always a reaction Louis could give against Harry’s small acts of battle that would win him the war; it was the very nature of their relationship. Hadrian could hit as hard as he wanted, but Louixander would turn it around and hit harder every single time. He couldn’t wait to hit his absolute hardest when they were finally alone...he would show no mercy.

 

\---

 

Louis was stood backstage as the contestant before him ambled through their set; he had priorly led everyone in through the front to take their seats and then snuck round back, but he’d kept to the shadows as he waited for his turn. He knew Mr. Carey was nearby, and he wanted to comfort the man (who was probably sweating bullets right about now), but he also wanted to focus; _not_ have that “where have you been?” conversation moments before he was to go onstage.

He ran through his line-up for his final, having decided he would perform that collection one last time because it held elements of _everything_ within it. The mourning, yearning, redundant sounds of _Come Back_ represented how the beginning of his relationship with Harry had been those first weeks at the mansion. The visions, the dreams, the confusion, the hunch that something was off—something was around the corner. Waiting impatiently to be discovered.

Then to transition into _Vie à L'Intérieur_ , symbolizing the freedom he found inside the madness. The innocent curiosity, the bouts of laughter, the gentle touches; the chase inside the backyard maze, that night they’d spent drinking alcohol and listening to The Grateful Dead. Seeing his love for the very first time with these eyes; the way his body had leaned against the door jamb to watch Louis play Alexander’s piano like he’d been born for it—because he had been. _Vie à L'Intérieur_ was the epitome of the moments in which Harry and Louis had been able to forget everything that rested on their shoulders. It stood for the embraces and moments of eye contact they'd shared that had prevented even the most pressing of problems from reaching them. From hurting them.

Then to finish it off with the ever so iconic _Year Endless_. The embodiment of their strife; their struggle with ongoing danger. Running from the club bathroom, driving through a cornfield at action movie speeds, running home to enact a massacre on their front steps. Running to old friends for help, discovering Azazel was a key player of their endless chess game with Auron. Place to place, gas station after gas station, getting taken to jail, assaulted by the notorious Auron...and liking it... All the shit that had spurred from that twin’s trap of lure. The consistent battles at the Sparrows home as Erakus’s family passionately fought for a cause that didn't even concern them.

Always _always_ running; never letting their guard down for one moment because every time they did, something horrible had happened.

Even now, after so much running already, they still couldn’t stop. They were nowhere near through the thick of it. How long would they keep this up? _Could_ they... When would it be enough? When would—

“Louis Tomlinson!”

The roar of a crowd. _Shit, that’s me_ , he thought, emerging from the back corner and rushing up to the wings wherein Mr. Carey gripped his scarf like a stress ball, his gaze fixed outward in the blatant hopes of Louis suddenly walking across the stage and taking his rightful place at the piano stool.

Louis stared at the back of the only man who had ever shown him true kindness (besides Niall and Mr. Anderson later in his high school career), unimaginably thankful that Mr. Carey had existed for four years of his human life. The man called Lisa, who had given him hope where he’d lacked it, praise where he’d never seen it, and a companionship love when he hadn’t known it.

He strode silently between the wings of the stage and reached out his hand, lightly placing it on Mr. Carey’s shoulder as the man’s head cranked to see who’d touched him. Louis spared no time on words yet but he let their eyes meet as he passed, showcasing a lopsided smile and an uncanny wink, chuckling at the face of his music teacher—a face that said he’d either just seen a ghost, or a God. But of course, in reality, he’d merely seen an immortal King.

“ _Louis,_ ” Mr. Carey whispered in fascination, his eyes welling with tears as his former student stepped out onto the stage, walking across the polished floorboards with an ethereal grace that Mr. Carey hadn't ever noticed before. Was Louis always that sophisticated or had something changed in him?

Louis smiled at his audience, sliding onto the stool of the gleaming grand piano that had been set onstage for its players. It was the highest quality of this instrument he'd seen in a long time, neither Mr. Carey’s, Maura’s, nor Harry’s living up to the flawless standard. Its keys were bright and without a speck of dust, the foot pedals golden and sparkling.

His eyes flicked to his smiling lover in the second row of the audience, flanked on both sides by the members of their makeshift and highly dysfunctional family, every face he'd loved or come to love teeming with excitement and support.

Held up by his quirky group of misfits, his fingers fell onto the familiar texture of ivory eyes, taking a deep and, though unneeded, extremely relaxing breath in preparation. And then he played. He played like his immortal life depended on it—like there was a dagger at his temple and unless he gave this every shred of emotion and love he had, it would plunge into his brain; hurl him back to the dark abyss to meet his personal ball of light once more.

There was a twinge of bittersweet, wistful sadness as he played by himself, missing the helpful second voice in his head that told him what to do when he was lost. His fragmented memories had been so remarkably powerful, so ingrained and insistent, that they’d found a voice to call him with. The voice of his glorious Alexander; whispering corrections to him, scolding him when he talked back, giving him courage in times of fear, flowering him with love and company when he was alone.

How he would miss the hushed tones of Alexander inside his mind. He now understood what the voice had been all that time, and it was a comfort to know his own soul had held his hand as he drowned in the endless sea of loss and confusion, but he had to fend for himself now. If his soul had been strong enough to light the way for his fourteenth human self, then he could be just as strong without it. He owed it that.

Losing his soul again had been fleetingly gut-wrenching, he’ll admit...but he gained so much more in giving it up a second time—a second _chance_ at forever with his one true love, and that is worth the cost of anything.

With all that sappy crap in mind, he brought the melancholy tones of _Come Back_ to their appropriate close, and hurled his hands into _Vie à L'Intérieur_ instead, cautiously testing the bounds of tempo as the piece tiptoed the scales, his spine collapsing as the first segment melted away to run its river of melody. It picked up into allegro and he met it halfway, giving the song everything it wanted while he pulled its emotion back into himself.

The thought of Harry sitting down and writing the foundations of these magnetizing pieces had always given Louis large bursts of inspiration, but he hadn’t always known why. At first, he’d been staggeringly impressed at the beauty that they held, and of course infinitely curious of the unseen individual who had created them. _Why_ he had created them. His inspiration now comes from the answered question of ‘why.’

Harry had written these with the then hopeless desire that Alexander would someday play them, and because of that, they’d always remained open-ended. Incomplete.

Harry hadn’t felt entitled or even worthy to finish works which were made for Alexander’s consumption and enjoyment, but just at the right time, Alexander had returned as Louis, and Harry had finally been able to gift his music to the one for whom it was intended. How Louis wishes he’d had all his memories in order when he'd met Harry’s eyes for the first time in this life. He wishes he could go back to that moment in time so that instead of squawking, “What?” when addressed as Alexander, he could have more accurately replied, “Close enough.”

That would have saved them some time.

He almost didn’t notice _Vie à L'Intérieur_ was nearing its end and by the time he did, he was already four bars into _Year_ _Endless_. This piece especially hit home for him because not only was it the first composition of Harry’s he’d ever learned, _and_ the beginning of the most riveting mystery case of all time, it had inexplicably paved the first road to recollection. The more he’d played that song, the more he’d seen of Alexander’s life... In the form of panic-attack-inducing, traumatically dissociative flashes of the past behind his eyelids, but still, it had been a start.

That was how this experience had gone for the most part. Every time enlightenment had been within his grasp, something had yanked it back into the depths of the otherworld. Himself, he figures. Maybe he’d known he wasn’t ready for the knowledge that he’d received upon turning—maybe he’d known there was no point in gathering the missing pieces until he had connected the broken shards of _himself_ first.

Whatever reason reigned true, this song wrapped it all up into one big bundle of frustration and indignance, passion and frenzy, love and loss. It was the perfect musical dedication he could have asked for, and he could hear Harry’s emotional sniffles from where he sat.

After what seemed like the longest duration of time he’d ever spent on a performance, he was done. He’d embedded such a sizeable chunk of his heart into the session that his departure from the stool made him feel as though he'd finally been released from invisible chains that had held him in place for weeks.

He looked out into the crowd and grinned when they reacted as crowds always had to him; like a flock of turkeys. Applause resounded through the high ceilings of the music hall, and he waved in gratitude for their time, though maybe _they_ should be thanking _him_ , and leapt right off the front of the stage, skipping to the exit doors and expecting his group to follow.

He knew he’d won the festival, and he didn’t need a trophy to prove it—his immortal (plus warlock) group needed to be on their way, and when frolicking the hours of night, the daytime clock is always ticking.

He stepped out into the peaceful night and left the sound of appraisal behind him, walking sidelong down the length of the building to wait for his group, stepping over bushes and shrubbery as he went. He'd just reached the first corner when he detected a scent he didn't know _how_ he recognized but instinctively did. Before he could react to the discovery at all, his family had caught up to him, offering congratulations and commending him on his magnificent musical prowess.

At the sound of his name, the scent’s owner flinched, and in eight seconds flat, Football-Troy had rounded the corner. “Well _look who it is_. The school-skipping, butt-munching piano-faggot,” he sneered, glaring hatefully at the sight of Louis wrapped in another man’s arms, then distributing looks of scorn to every other individual that surrounded the couple.

“Troy, you really shouldn’t—”

“No, Niall,” Louis sung, cutting the blonde off with a passive swish of his hand. “I really think he should,” he purred, sending Troy such a diabolical smirk that the bully of bullies himself even looked a little tense. “Go back to the bus, guys. Leave Harry and I for awhile,” he ordered, his gaze never breaking from Troy while his party did as they were told.

“Who is this?” Harry asked in suspicion, the boy’s scent seeming vaguely familiar, like he’d noticed it on Louis before, though he couldn’t peg when. Unless... “Did he hurt you?” he growled, taking one step threatening toward the human as he looked back to Louis for a confirmation. “That night. The first night I drank from you...when you were hurt. Was that _him_?” he roared with a jab of his finger at the human, gearing up to rip him into taxingly small pieces.

“Patience, my love,” Louis murmured to halt Harry’s justified advance, contemplating what he would do with the powerless flea before him. The flea that had caused him an unimaginable amount of pain in his human life—this would be fun. “Go ahead, Troy. Answer the question. Have you ever hurt me?” he cooed, simmering in his superior status that he’d wasted so many hours wishing for over the course of their thirteen year feud, subtly trembling with the power he’d begged the Gods for as he was drowning in toilet water.

Troy took a step back, sizing the bigger frame of whoever Louis was with against his own, debating how long it would take to knock him down first. He looked a little freaky, but he was thin and gangly; Troy had pummeled football opponents twice his weight to the ground, so he was fairly confident this tall kid didn’t stand a chance. “You _still_ think I did shit to you that you _didn’t deserve_?” he jeered incredulously, spitting in Louis’ direction and grunting in disappointment when the vixen dodged it. “I’d be careful how you talk to me, faggot, or I’ll reintroduce your ribs to my fucking shoe,” he spat, unknowingly causing an eruption in Harry’s deadly temper. “Along with this twig dick-sucker too.”

“Louis, I can’t—” Harry warned, visibly shaking with bottled rage as he fought against his nature with everything he had. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Oh really?” Troy laughed, theatrically dabbing at his eyes from the audacity of being threatened. “What the fuck do you think you’re gonna do? Male model me to death, pretty boy?” he challenged to Harry, his eyes returning to his beloved Louis because he was more beautiful in this moment than Troy had ever seen him.

“Can I kill him?” Harry begged, imploring his case to Louis’ inquisitive profile, two seconds from doing it anyway regardless of what Louis wanted.

“Mmm...no. Hurt him,” Louis said instead, his lips curling upward in a lust for violence, giggling when Harry strode up to the paralyzed human and took him by the wrist, pulling him forward and raising a hand to slap down onto his forearm. “Other arm,” Louis said quickly, nodding his head when Harry confusedly switched the human’s left wrist for his right. “He’s a football star,” Louis explained, clapping his hands together in giddy excitement.

“What are you going to do?” Troy whimpered, struggling to be released and even trying to throw a few futile punches before Louis intervened.

“Troy,” Louis sung, incorporating his first wave of lure into the call. “Troy, look at me,” he whispered, the human’s eyes glossing over as he stilled his movements, gazing at Louis in worship and reverence. “ _Good_ neanderthal,” the Elder cooed, nodding at Harry to strike now. He released his lure like the shake of an Etch-a-Sketch, Troy’s dreary eyes refocusing on Louis in dazed disillusionment.

“Wha—”

Troy never got to finish that sentence, because the moment he’d returned to full awareness, Harry had struck his forearm with the force of a gentle pat...completely snapping the inner bones in half, bending the limb into an obscene right angle that had the white bulge of his bones teasing the surface of skin, threatening to break through on either side if it was pushed any further.

Troy screeched like his intestines were getting ripped out of his gut, his wide and petrified eyes staring in horror at the mangled state of his arm, the searing agony of the break blackening his vision. “What did you do to me!” he screamed, choking out a gasp when Louis flashed forward and pinned him to the wall by his neck, intentionally smacking his deformed limb right into the bricks behind them as he did it.

“What you deserve,” Louis snarled, extending his lethal fangs and hissing as Troy’s already wide eyes nearly bulged right out of his skull.

Troy was full on sobbing in terror at this point, the sharp sting of multiple blades piercing into the top layers of skin on his neck, making him cry out helplessly. “Don’t kill me!” he sniveled, looking to the man who had broken his arm in a desperate search for help, but only finding similarly sharp teeth as he sickeningly grinned at him. “What are you monsters!”

“Quiet,” Louis bit, knocking his head back against the building hard enough to shut him up but not incapacitate him. “Though you’ll never play that stupid sport again, broken arms heal. I’m going to give you something that won’t,” he growled, pulling his claws out of Troy’s neck to tear into it with his fangs instead, choosing a spot right on the front near his throat to leave an inescapable and unignorable reminder. He knew it would give pleasure to the human, and he didn’t particularly like that part, but he withheld as much of his endorphins as he could while he drank to make up for it. Besides...the lasting effects of this were well worth the cost of the process.

Troy’s gargled howl shot straight to Louis’ ego, the Elder losing himself in the fun and gratifying act of taking a human’s blood, gulping the substance down as his heart sprung back to life. He was a little disappointed that his first life spark was via Troy, but something about it amused him at the same time, and he made do. He twisted his fangs before pulling out, ensuring an ugly and excessive scar to marr that skin for the rest of Troy’s pathetic life.

Once he’d straightened up, he shoved the drunken Troy over to crash onto the ground, cackling when he shrieked from landing on his arm, the pain of the brutal snap creeping back to the bully’s system now that Louis had stopped overriding it. “That felt great,” he sighed with a lazy smile, Harry stepping up behind him and snaking his arms around his shoulders, both of them fonding at their broken victim as though he was an abstract art project...he kind of was.

“And the winner is...Louis Tomlinson!” they heard from the bowels of the community center, Harry clapping his hands under Louis’ chin in celebration.

“Way to go, Lou,” the Roman praised, kissing him on the cheek and letting his arms fall to his sides. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, holding a hand out for Louis to take.

Louis was still taking in the glorious sight of his most hated school enemy whining and coughing on the ground, sprawled out defenselessly and trying his hardest to crawl away while he cried like a toddler in the midst of a temper tantrum. “Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed, kneeling down beside the frantically retreating (to no avail) Troy.

“What are you?” Troy repeated fearfully, fighting an inner battle with himself to ask Louis to do that thing again.

“That’s an easy one,” Louis replied, grabbing Troy by the hair and lifting his head off the ground, the bully groaning in both pain and overstimulation from the bite marks. “I’m the boy of your wet dreams,” he jeered, leaning closer to snarl into Troy’s ear. “I can only hope that I haunt your nightmares too. Good luck with that scar on your neck—you’ll have that for the rest of your damn life. You will _never_ escape the memory of what I did to you tonight...and I think that’s almost better than killing you. Farewell, you maggot-infested douchebag,” he finished, shoving Troy’s head down and bouncing his skull off the concrete, this time using enough force to knock him out cold.

“Beautifully put, my dear,” Harry commented, scooping Louis up like a bride and jogging down the grassy hill to get to the parking lot and join their group. Their vehicle was an easy one to spot, being a giant grey school bus and all, and their group stood sporadically leaned against it, a few smoking idle cigarettes as they waited.

“There’s our vengeful spirit,” Martin called, whooping over the victory of Louis’ fulfilled vendetta.

“I can’t _believe_ you did that, holy shit,” Niall cried with a happy grin, easily seeing the appeal in bringing someone like that down to size.

“What can I say? Karma is real,” Louis said as he was gently returned to the ground, wiping the smeared blood from his face and making Harry check it for him afterward to see if he’d missed a spot.

“Where are we off to next?” Martin asked, keeping his hands in the back pockets of Tanner’s jeans as the frizzy-haired baby vampire snuggled into his front.

Louis thought about it for just a second, making sure his chosen order of events was correct before replying, a happy-go-lucky grin directed at the curious Harry as he made the announcement. “Our mansion.”

 

~~~

 

Mr. Carey had taken the trophy on Louis’ behalf because he _ran off before it could be_ _given_ , and his one and only goal in life now was to deliver it to him, but he didn’t know where he was. He chose to sprint out the front doors to see if his student was still in the parking lot, and he didn’t know what he was going to do if he wasn’t.

“Louis!” he roared into the night air as he flew down the steps of the community center, hoping and praying that Louis would hear him from wherever he was. “Louis!” he yelled again, holding the trophy above his head like that may help his case.

He stopped short when he got a response call, his eyes squinting in the dark to what looked like a school bus crowded by a small group of people under a lamppost. When he got a beckoning wave from one of the kids and studied the individual, he was finally able to discern Louis’ hair, and he sprinted to the bus, the faces of the shadowed males becoming clearer the closer he got. “Louis!” he rasped, slowing to a halt a metre away from the group as he panted toward the ground from all the physical exertion.

Once he could straighten without a sharp pain in his side, he thrust the award at the amused Louis, begging him to take it with a manic look in his eyes—he didn’t need to see himself to know that’s what he looked like. “You...earned this...take it.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis accepted, taking the heavy award in both hands as Mr. Carey noticeably relaxed from having the weight lifted (no pun intended) from his plate of duties. “Thank you, Lisa. For everything,” Louis said, handing the award off to Harry as he lightly grasped Mr. Carey’s shoulders.

“Is this goodbye again?” Lisa asked solemnly, taking into account the giant _bus_ Louis’ group seemed to travel and live in. He didn’t expect to see him driving it to actual school on Monday, that’s for sure. He was just happy that he was okay.

“Yeah, it is,” Louis said with a bittersweet smile, pulling his mentor in for a conclusive hug as he kissed him on the cheek.

Once Mr. Carey had squeezed him as hard as he humanly could, Louis stepped away, his group slowly retreating toward the entrance of bus before he stopped and turned back around, a special glint in his eye that Lisa couldn’t unlock the meaning of.

“...You once told me that if I ever met one, I was to introduce you…” he began, giving Lisa ample time to think that over. “Well...here we are,” he said brightly, gesturing his arms out to his beautiful group of people.

“What were we talking about that day?” Lisa asked as he strained to remember, the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Louis just laughed and herded his friends inside the bus, pausing on the last step to administer his last words. “Think about it,” he said, giving Lisa a wink and shutting the door, the bus roaring to life as the driver started the engine and rolled it away from the perplexed music teacher.

Mr. Carey stared at his shoes with a furrowed brow, stretching his mind as far as it would allow without giving him a migraine, in desperate search of this _one_ _thing_ that was somehow important enough to mention in a final goodbye. What the hell was that conversation abou—

 

~~~

 

_“Do you believe in immortality?”_

_“As an immediate response, I’d have to say no….However! That being said, I think there’s a lot that we don’t know.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yes, really. We don’t even know what’s at the bottom of our own oceans, much less space and beyond. I think there could be a lot living under noses that we never notice because we’re never looking. Because we think we know everything already…but that’s gotta be bullshit. We’re always learning, and it’s easy to forget that. I’m sure our ancestors didn’t gaze at the moon and assume we’d be walking on it someday. Impossible things seem to happen all the time, so I think it’s foolish to discredit anything we just haven’t seen yet.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“However….It is admittedly a strange question, why do you ask it so seriously?”_

_“Oh, I just read it somewhere, that’s all. The concept fascinated me, so I thought I’d ask about it.”_

_“Hmm…well if you ever meet an immortal, be sure to introduce me.”_

_“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll do that.”_

 

~~~

 

That’s it!

All at once, like an orchestrated vision from God, he’d remembered every detail of that fleeting conversation. The answer had detonated the flickering light bulb above his head, shooting frosted glass shards every which way, his jaw dropping in shock as the pieces fell into their mind-boggling places. He whipped his head up to catch the last glimpse of the bus as it turned the corner of the adjacent street, Lisa’s last chance at an explanation driving off with it.

Was it true? Did Louis _really_ mean immortality? Was he...were all of them...immortal?

He found himself chuckling in spite of the madness, all logic abandoned henceforth as he felt a tugging, adamant sensation in his gut that told him Louis was being completely honest. And really...when it came to Louis, there was nothing that just...made more sense than this. That boy was impossible in many regards, and adding immortality to the mix was absurdly easy to do.

Mr. Carey laughed outright, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath of the fresh night air as though it was his first. He eyed the blinding mass of the full moon and slowly shook his head in wonderment, only two words coming to mind that would sum up such an extraordinary encounter with his piano star. “...That boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troy had specifically gone to the golden gate festival to see Louis, sorta the same hunch that he'd be there even tho he hadn't been to school. His mistake, right? haha. I haven't written a word of 19 yet, just finished this one andddd it's 4am now, so I'll start it tomorrow. haha hope this was satisfying. There's still one Troy left, isn't there? ;);););)


	19. And Then They Jumped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I insist on writing 10k chapters, for Jupiter's sake, I don't intend to. That's why it takes two days to get them out now, sorry. Anywho, I FUCKING GUESS I absolutely need to put a warning out for this one because there are people who will not appreciate it if I don't, but I gotta say, you HAD to have seen it coming. It's been alluded to since fuckin' get-go, ever since Harry's memory/dream of making Alexander drink blood again by the docks after years of abstinence. We know it happened, we know they did that, and we've known they eventually would again. Alexander, thereby Louixander, is Hadrian's ELDER, and he always has been...this is happening. It's been a long time coming, and those that are disappointed, or cannot handle Harry getting devoured and ravaged by the Asian King, SKIP IT. Tho, you might just wanna skip the entire chapter if that's the case....Idk, I leave it to you.  
> Alright. Now that I've done my part, without further ado, BOTTOM HARRY TIME.

“Home sweet home,” Louis said, stood in the center of their group as they stared at the black loom of the mansion with two bat decorated doors.

“It's almost weird seeing it now,” Harry noted, him and Martin going through a strange period of adjustment as they observed their old home from the outside after everywhere they'd been. It was surreal to be back; the mansion hadn't changed but their lives had. After two hundred years of smooth sailing, the chaos of their kind had finally caught up to them...and it was weird.

“Welp. No use staring at it. Come on, let’s get inside,” Louis said, being the first to break away from the stationary creatures and walk up the stairs of the tiny porch. He pushed down on the right side thumb latch and the door swung open with ease, having been left unlocked considering where their priorities had been at the time. Well...where they still are. Locks really are useless.

They all stepped inside the mansion and Louis flicked the living room light on for the sake of Jenner, staring at the illuminated characteristics with a rekindled appreciation. With his vampiric eyes, it was almost like getting a second first impression; the chandelier made every glass object sparkle and shine like it was coated in glitter, the colour palette of burgundy and honey paint popped with more saturation than it’d ever had, and he could see specks of dust floating gracefully like a light trickle of microscopic snow as it tried to settle.

His ears discerned the buzz of electricity from the light fixture, the frog-like croak of the floorboards as his company moved around atop them—a sound that never used to be _this_ pronounced—and of course the windstorm breathing of Jenner as his lungs filtered the stuffy air. His nose singled out the separately ingrained scents of Martin and Harry, the distinct mix of old and new within the interior, marking ancient items and collectibles as such, and accenting the successive variations of culture and time...along with the blood bags that were a _tad_ stale but still cold in the refrigerator.

A more familiar scent broke Louis off from the group and he walked down the west hall, passing by the music room and library, and approaching the door at the dead end. Beyond this door lay the memory wherein he’d fainted in a recollective panic and shockingly developed his distinctive eye discolouration after peering at a portrait of Alexander—however, the room he'd come to understand was filled with _his_ _own_ personal belongings didn't quite pack the same punch now. The door was locked as always, and he was moments from breaking it open when Harry materialized behind him and shoved the key into the lock, twisting it sideways and promptly backing off, not saying a word as Louis slunk inside.

“Make yourselves at home,” the Roman called back into the living room, following Louis into the room and turning on the light to brighten every sentimental item that sat inside.

Louis was surprised to find so much of his stuff restored and preserved after so long without it. He didn’t understand how Harry had gathered it all, where he’d stored it, and how he’d gotten it all across an ocean on his journey to America, but he supposed he should be thankful regardless. The right wall was donned top to bottom with racks and hooks that perched an enormous collection of weapons that Alexander had used as a human, his personal and staunch sword and shield catching the longest gaze from his eyes.

Daggers and spears made centuries later were also present, and tools from all over the world occupied every possible space, but it was the things besides weapons that were the most entertaining to reconnect with. The useless junk he’d looted from Japan, China, India, Persia, France, Germany, the islands of Britannia and so forth made him laugh out loud because he suddenly realized how Harry had scored all of this—where it had even _been_ in the first place. “You went to my past grave, didn't you?... I can’t believe you remembered where that was,” he noted, glancing over his shoulder at the sheepish Harry.

The ‘past grave’ he’s mentioning was a small square plot of land in Ireland that he’d dug some twenty feet or so down to store things he couldn’t carry to and fro anymore. He'd dropped a gigantic boulder similar in size to a section of Stonehenge atop the opening and pushed it back and forth whenever he had a new addition to toss in. And before you condemn him for being some kind of clutter bunny, let him emphasize that immortals— _especially_ _Elders_ —acquire a lot of stupid shit in their lives, and you have to find somewhere to put things if you move around a lot...he’d definitely forgotten he’d ever even owned some of this crap, but leave it to Harry to salvage it all like it was a precious and invaluable trove of treasures.

“I did. You’d once said it was in the northern region of Ireland. Wasn't that hard to remember—or find, for that matter. I also searched Macedonia, Greece, everything Mediterranean, Persia...basically everywhere to find your scent lingering on anything I could carry. What?” he suddenly demanded, raising his defenses when louis quirked an eyebrow at him. “ _I kind of missed you_...”

“Don't mind me, I think it's sweet,” Louis assured, holding his hands out in surrender.

Harry seemed ready to keep firing, but he sighed it out instead and resumed his reminiscing. “I was simultaneously looking for Auron around that time so I made sure to spread my expedition out, and I found a lot of your stuff on the way. In places you wouldn't expect, like tiny little islands off the coast of Cuba. I know for a fact you traveled to and settled down in more places than you can remember,” Harry said, taking slow and aimless steps around the room as he spoke, still in shock that he was stood inside the very place he'd routinely come to over the last two centuries when he’d felt like giving himself over to crippling depression, bantering with the reincarnated consciousness of Alexander, and _not_ just crying over the contents of the lonesome and offensively good-smelling room.

“That’s probably true,” Louis laughed, pivoting on the floor until he found the uncovered portrait of himself from 1569 that had freaked him out so badly as a human. “I don’t look all that scary,” he noted, scratching his chin while he stared at himself in the frame. Bit of an odd experience, but he’s been through worse.

“I remember when that was painted,” Harry said, walking over to peer at the art with him and recount the events of that day.

“I remember too, you know,” Louis laughed, happy that he could now officially say that for every story Harry could bring up. “You wouldn’t stop stroking yourself in the bed while I was concentrating on keeping still. For hours you played with yourself while I was forced to listen to and smell it, stuck on a stool until the artist was done. And then when he finally _was_ done, we drank his blood, killed him, and I fucked you all night,” he recited, still pleased with the outcome of that fight.

“It’s weird having you all the way back…” Harry mused, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What, you got a problem with me?” Louis asked with two raised eyebrows, crossing his arms and challenging the Roman with an accusatory stare.

“Of course not!” Harry rushed to say, scoffing at the mere notion of that concept. “But I’m used to being the elusive, the _mysterious_ and _fascinating_ creature of the underworld to you. Now it’s no fun—you already know everything. I’ve lost my spell of irresistible enchantment,” he griped, shrugging his shoulders in over-dramatic melancholy.

“Oh I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Louis laughed, returning to his weapon stash and tossing genuine ninja stars up in the air, catching them between his fingers and smirking at the intrigued Harry. “I think I am of much more use to you knowing how you tick than inflating your ‘mysterious’ ego,” he said with a roll of his eyes, unexpectedly grasping the hilt of his kingly sword in one hand and rapidly swinging it through the air in Harry’s direction.

Harry reacted in an instant, snatching a nearby sword of his own and meeting Louis’ blade in the middle, a loud clank reverberating from the metallic collision. “Feeling nostalgic, are we?” the Emperor chuckled, his right arm still pushing the sword against Louis’, both weapons raised slightly above their heads.

“Just thought I'd reenact how we first met,” Louis replied, vainly satisfied that the muscles in his arms were steady while Harry’s were obviously flexing to hold him back. “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen,” he professed, taking his time to admire every line and angle of Harry’s face.

Harry cracked under the pressure of his lover’s scrutinization and he pulled his sword back, pointing the blade down to the ground and yanking Louis in with a fist closed around the front of his shirt. He kissed his lips with crushing force, the clatter of Louis’ blade sounding seconds after their lips had met and he’d gotten over the shock.

Louis’ hands found their way into Harry’s hair, holding his head still while he chased Harry’s tongue with his own, dominating his mouth and breathing in his scent for as much stimulation as possible. He was lifted up Harry’s torso by two hands under his arse, and he crossed his ankles against Harry’s lower back, nicking Harry’s lower lip with his fang and licking the droplet of blood off as they kissed.

“Gods, Lou. We can’t yet,” Harry mumbled through a moan, running both hands up Louis’ back and squeezing the identical mounds of his shoulder blades.

“Mmm...we can do whatever we want,” Louis disagreed, logic impaired by the all-consuming distraction of his lover’s body, allowing his priorities to wander out of reach as he felt every inch of him with starved fingertips. He attacked Harry’s neck in fangless bites for fun and sucked on the skin to really get him going, the Roman falling to his knees with Louis still hanging on his front.

Once Louis was closer to the ground, he took Harry’s shoulders and threw his own weight backward, propelling them to topple over and consequently trap Louis between Harry’s frame and the floor. “Touch me,” he whispered, taking Harry’s wrists that lay beside his head and throwing them down near his stomach, pulling up his shirt after the fact.

Harry got the point and transferred his weight onto his knees, his large hands smoothing all over Louis’ exposed chest, rubbing up and down and giving intermittent scratches to the trembling skin. He went for Louis’ pants next to feel his way around Louis’ thighs and hips when Louis actually stopped him, guiding him back to his face with a hand wound tightly yet gently in his hair.

Louis dove forward to reach Harry’s lips before they’d made it all the way to him, throwing his arms over the back of Harry’s neck while he fell back down with a thunk. He then rolled them over to sit atop Harry’s pelvis and softly intertwined their fingers, leaning down between their held hands and pressing gentle kisses to Harry’s pliant lips while their thumbs peacefully stroked the backs of each other’s hands. When Harry had foolishly let his guard down, Louis immediately smashed Harry’s wrists against the floor beside his head, holding his Roman down and licking his lips with a victorious smirk.

“What’s this? I thought you wanted me to touch you,” Harry purred from beneath him, straining his neck up for a kiss while Louis only pulled further away.

“We don't have time for this yet,” Louis chastised, the menacingly smug grin on his face snapping every nerve Harry had.

“You know, I don't think you're going to win tonight. Your attitude has pissed me off far too many times since you were turned, and I'm disinclined to do you any favours. I'm not just going to give myself to you, you haven't earned me,” Harry seethed, jerking his hips up to buck Louis off because it was only means of attack.

Louis giggled as he was catapulted from Harry’s body, arching over him and twisting himself to land on his knees above Harry’s head as opposed to straight on his back like Harry had likely intended. He leapt up and jumped out of range as Harry darted out for him, crouching to defend himself if necessary.

The two were locked in stalemate and neither struck out, their sexual tension driving them both insane as they imagined the rough and brutal session of mindless fucking they would finally have after all this interspecies tiptoeing.

“I don't need to _earn_ you, Harry. Every single part of you already belongs to me,” Louis said as he straightened his knees and fixed his disheveled shirt, pelting Harry with a lustful gaze while Harry petulantly fluffed up his curly locks. “Come, we're being terrible hosts,” he chirped, turning on heel and prancing out of the room.

“I’ll belong to you if you can even catch me,” Harry chuckled, following his lover down the hall and staring shamelessly at the curve of his hips as they swished side to side. He didn't have to imagine Louis’ naked body because he'd seen every inch of and made love to it already plenty of times, but there was still a tinge of mystery to its immortal version. Louis’ body might look the same, besides his pale skin, but it would _do_ new things. He'd be able to treat it differently, and he questioned how it would treat him in return.

“Your thoughts are practically gnawing on my back,” Louis said, glancing over his shoulder and laughing at the low focus of Harry’s eyes. “Up here, Roman,” he said with a snap of his fingers by his face, pulling Harry out of a gripping trance.

“You are _mine_ ,” Harry said as they walked into the noisy kitchen, their group fortunately deep into overlapping conversations that proved they hadn't just listened in on everything that had transpired between the ancient Elder couple.

“Hello, hello, hello!” Louis greeted, strolling to the fridge and pulling out five blood bags from its shelves, tossing them one by one to everyone but Jenner.

“What are we, barbarians?” Martin scolded, snatching everyone's bags from them before they could partake and carrying them to the stove, where he then rummaged around for his pot and pitcher.

“High standards,” Louis scolded, hopping onto the opposite counter and leaning his head back against the cabinet that housed the glasses and dishware. “Hadrian and I used to drink cold horse blood.”

“Ugh,” Zayn gagged, scoffing in disgust from simply imaging the taste of that. “Why the hell would you do that?” he asked, Harry furiously nodding because he was completely on Zayn’s side.

“Because he made me,” Harry griped, still to this day able to taste that sour, bitter travesty in the back of his mouth whenever he thought about it. “He was a _pacifist_.”

“Yes I was! I _actually_ was,” Louis snapped in instantaneous rage, every immortal in the kitchen observant enough to gather the Elder couple had definitely had this argument before. “Unlike you who hath no sob story of the sort, I killed my lover when I turned!—”

“You killed your lover?” Niall whined in sympathy, pained to even conceptualize the anguish and guilt of causing such a horrific accident.

“Yes, I did. His name was Bagoas, and he was very dear to me. I was freshly turned, and I killed him by accident,” Louis sighed, his earlier fury coming back in a flash as he rounded on Harry. “After that tragedy, I lost myself completely to vampire nature, and it took me decades to reel myself back on track, but I did! Successfully! For _centuries_...until _you_ came around! You, a fiending slave and helpless addict to the call of blood—a terrible _terrible_ influence. The immortal Emperor who would whine and shake through withdrawals because you just couldn’t fucking handle your death! I tried to wean you off that which you so selfishly engorged yourself on; tried to make you lead a peaceful existence without staining the human race; and you lied and lied and _lied to me_. And then, when you couldn’t take being any sort of decent creature anymore, you went out on a binge, nearly overdosed, and then assaulted me!” he roared, having worked himself into quite the frenzy because he’d always gone easy on Hadrian for turning him back into the monster he'd so determinately fought, and he really didn't feel like being the paragon of forgiveness right now.

“I saw the light,” Harry said softly, his eyes downcast and unable to meet Louis’, his head hung in what almost looked like shame. “I drank from no one directly after your death until I met Martin, and then the next time was yourself again, so don’t you look down on me. I tried really hard to be good for you,” he muttered, his face darkened with agitation over being so embarrassingly scolded.

“Wait, if you feel so passionately about not killing people, why do you want to do it now?” Niall butted in, always the asker of the most sensible questions.

“I’m too far gone,” Louis confessed with a devilish glint in his eyes. He strutted over to Harry, who was leaned against the small section of counter between the fridge and stove, and pressed their fronts together, tucking a lock of Harry’s hair behind his ear and smoothing his palm over his cheek.

He then glanced to his left to acknowledge the curious Niall, and continued his speech. “We lived that way too long and I eventually stopped caring about the suffering of humans. Now that I’m back, I want nothing more than a slaughter, and I _know_ you do too,” he added to the discomforted Harry, grinning at the small squirm he caused as the Roman pointedly looked everywhere but at his eyes. “I don’t care how good a boy you’ve been in my absence, I know who you really are,” he snorted, patting Harry on the chest and craning upward to whisper into his ear. “You’re a demon, Hadrian. A siren in the shadows—scylla—a _gorgon_ upon civilization...just like me. You’ve held it at bay for an impressively long time, but I’m going to drag it out of you; you deserve to be free,” he taunted, Harry’s blazing eyes finally meeting his when he pulled away and screaming at him in a silent language only they could understand.

Martin broke the moment that seemed suspended in time, clicking the stove off and distributing the warmed blood into five glasses, impressively carrying all of them back to the table and noisily sliding them across the wood.

“ _Okayyy_ so...so uh, what are our plans at this very moment?” Zayn coughed as he grasped his glass, every member of the family now itching to get out of the area before they were caught in the fray of Harry and Louis’ destructive sexual reunion.

“Well,” Louis mused, looking to the ceiling as he stepped into the center of the room, pretending not to notice had Harry begun sulking from the loss of contact. “I was thinking—”

“Oh my GOD!” Niall suddenly barked, standing abruptly and flinching when the disrupted legs of his chair screeched back at him, holding a hand to his chest and giggling like a madman.

“I told you,” Zayn chuckled, finishing his own glass at a much more relaxed pace; a very wide contrast to the vacuum Niall had just channeled after the first tentative drop had hit his lips.

“And you thought you wouldn't like it,” Louis lilted, still anxiously vying to settle his private business with Harry.

“No, I said I didn't wanna kill people. Louis, I'm alive! I'm back to normal! I feel like I did when the bus broke down, before the fight, it’s like I’m—”

“A human again. Yes, Niall. That is what happens,” Louis laughed, happy to see the blonde in such high spirits because he’d been increasingly down of late.

“It feels so good,” Tanner moaned accordingly after his first gulp had taken effect, slinking back into Martin’s arms as the butler conclusively slammed his own emptied glass down, drunkenly chuckling into his creation’s neck, both high off their asses and having a marvelous time.

Louis looked then to Jenner, studying what was wrong with the picture he was seeing until it clicked. “Oh Zeus! Jenner, are you hungry?” he asked, gasping at the confirmation in Jenner’s eyes when the big doe orbs flicked up to meet Louis’. “Okay, I think we still have some…” he trailed, opening cabinet after cabinet to find the snack food that Martin had always provided for him. “Here,” he said, tossing over an apple and a bag of chips. Best he could do.

“Thank you,” Jenner said, biting into the apple like it was its own kind of juicy neck.

“Are you ever gonna turn?” Louis asked the chewing warlock, leaning an elbow atop the counter as he waited patiently for the boy to swallow. He only asked because he was curious, and now seemed as good a time as any to find out. They were all in significant danger, and Jenner was now the only one whose defenses were still through the floor (well, okay, he was talented. Above an average human, but still no match for their adversaries).

Jenner’s fire orange curls bounced every which way as he shook his head, scratching at his excessively freckled face when the action had tickled his own cheeks. “No, I will remain my kind,” he said after gulping his bite of apple down, committed to prolonging his life by his own means, the weight of the warlocks’ tragic state of near extinction perpetually balanced on his shoulders.

Louis’ eyes jumped to Harlock to see how he felt about it, guessing that it wasn't all that positive. The English vampire, though right beside him, was now twisting somewhat away from Jenner, resting his head on his fist and brooding over the topic. The patch over his left eye was all Louis could see from his standpoint, but he was sure a great deal of pain swam within the single one he had. Harlock knew every day they spent together that he would undoubtedly and inevitably lose his cherished Jenner to irreversible death, and no immortal on Earth would take that kind of fate well.

“Niall and I were thinking of going to his parents’ house,” Zayn piped to shift the atmosphere to something a little lighter (though not much), and he stood with Niall to start the mentioned journey. “And I wanted to check on my fish.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey,” Louis intercepted, freezing the retreating vampires in their spots. “No one’s going out there alone. All of you are going with them,” he said, gesturing his hand in a wide circle to encompass the occupants of the kitchen table.

“What? Why?” Zayn asked, a little affronted that Louis seemed to think him incapable of taking care of his lover.

“Because it’s fucking dangerous out there right now, and we have two babies who don’t know how to fight yet,” Louis stressed, laying down the law to his petulant audience. “You want to make rash decisions? Go fuck each other on some train tracks at the crack of dawn. But we’re not going to separate and get picked off one by one by Auron’s vampires in the fucking woods. This is _his_ territory, as is what seems like everywhere else, and we need to stick together,” he explained, crossing his arms when Zayn opened his mouth to denounce Louis’ ruling, effectively silencing him before he could speak. “You’re not winning this, alright? This is an order. So take Niall, take everyone else, _take the bus_ , and go handle your business. When everyone is done, come back here, and we’ll make a stop to my old house...I have some...things to do,” he said vaguely, a hateful look darkening his features as he thought of his wretched human Father.

“What, and leave you two here then?” Harlock challenged reasonably, simply concerned for his Roman friend and their prized Elder. “We’re not exactly sticking together if we leave two of us behind.”

“We’ll be fine,” Harry assured with the utmost vote of confidence, fighting the urge to roll his eyes out of respect for Harlock’s good intentions.

“Don’t worry about us,” Louis brushed off, shooing his arms to snap everyone into motion. “Just go feed your fish and—”

“Louis, what do I tell them? My folks...” Niall asked, the idea of seeing them again having haunted his every other thought since he’d turned. How would he possibly explain where he’d been—why he wouldn’t be around anymore? Was there an easy way out?

Louis only thought for a few moments before the answer presented itself on a shining platter. “Peace Corps,” he said simply, Niall’s eyes lighting up in grateful relief.

“Peace Corps! Louis, you’re a fucking genius!” he praised excitedly, whooping as he skipped out of the kitchen, now filled with determination to sell the story to his poor Mother and Father.

“Happy to help,” Louis quipped, strolling after the departing group to properly see them off, Harry following closely behind. “You three need to be on your highest guard. Do not stop assessing your surroundings even for a _second_ , alright?” he stressed to Harlock, Zayn, and Martin because they were the strongest of the bunch, still unnerved to push his chicks out of the nest.

“Put your faith in me, Louis,” Harlock professed, taking Louis’ hand and publicly vowing to hold the highest responsibility as the eldest of the mission.

“I leave it to you,” Louis accepted, pointedly keeping his eyes away from Zayn and Martin because he knew what kind of scowls they'd have stuck on their faces. “Do not _dawdle_ but...take your time,” he said with an impish wink, Harry snorting off to the side.

“Understood,” Harlock quipped with an eyebrow waggle, commencing the boarding of the bus as everyone else voiced their temporary farewells.

Louis and Harry watched as the silver bus puttered down the hill and through the thin opening of the gate, the sound of its testy engine eventually fading out and ensuring they were now entirely alone.

Neither seemed to want to move, for fear of the other striking out, and they stared at each other in the corner of their eyes, both engulfed in the merciless flames of romantic tension, centuries worth of pent-up aggression, and uncontrollable lust.

“I think it's about time to come alive, wouldn't you say? My dear Roman?” Louis purred, pivoting to face Harry with his hands on his hips.

“A wonderful idea,” Harry shot back tensely, his mind frantically formulating his battle plans to overpower the Elder and have his way with him first. It was a long shot—Louis was ridiculously strong—but maybe there would be a sneaky way he could turn the tables and dominate him instead. Sometimes moments like that had come across their struggles for supremacy. He just needed to find one fleeting opening and take it when it arose, or he was shit out of luck. Truthfully, he wanted to give himself over more than anything, but his pride was making him fight. He was still angry.

Louis stormed into the mansion and waited until Harry crossed the threshold before carefully slamming the door, sweeping down the hall toward the kitchen and heightening his senses to guard himself from the Roman walking behind him. No attacks came and they reached the fridge as one, Louis opening the door while Harry slid a cardboard box off the top, setting it on the ground for Louis to scoop every bag they had into it.

Louis then lifted the box into his arms and kicked the refrigerator door closed, retracing his steps back to the living room and setting the container down on the coffee table. He stretched his arms above his head and leaned side to side, subsequently lifting two bags from the box and throwing one to Harry. They opened the caps and drank the liquid down at roughly the same speed, wiping their mouths and flinging the empty plastic away without a care to where it ended up.

Harry lifted the clunky couch from the center of the room and threw it down the length of the east hall while Louis took charge of the loveseat, depositing the furniture into an unused corner to the left of the front doors. Harry came back and picked up the coffee table next, and Louis took the box off the surface for him, placing it at the bottom of the fireplace while Harry shoved the table into the same hall as the couch.

Their resuscitated hearts soon raced with intense adrenaline now that their space had been cleared, and they slowly walked to opposite sides of the room, reenacting the ancient dance they’d indulged in so many times before and circling each other like vultures, sizing up and establishing their windows of opportunity.

They still couldn’t speak a word, too fixated on their ambition for dominance, a million unsaid things firing between them as they glared each other into the ground. As if on cue, their circling stopped, two pairs of knees bending as they chose that time to collectively engage; a suffocating handful of nerve-rackingly rigid, _painfully suspenseful_ seconds passed by before the impending storm—and then they jumped.

And Harry couldn't believe what happened. One moment they were headfast on a collision course, claws out and teeth bared; the next, Louis was behind him. Harry only got to fleetingly glance over his shoulder before a foot hit his spine, then he was crashing into the floor, sliding on his feet and hands to slow his momentum before Louis could come back.

He scrambled into a standing position and zeroed in on Louis soaring through the air above him, a fist reared as he let out an automatic battle cry. He held his ground and let his lover come, staring up at him and crossing his forearms in front of his face at the last second. His quick block took in and endured the entire force of Louis’ punch, and his feet cracked the floorboards underneath them from the weight of motion.

Louis was suspended in the air for a few frozen seconds after impact, his fist still pushing against Harry’s unbroken arm bones, and the slight smirk he got from Harry did its duty to unnerve him. Before he could react, Harry instantly let his arm guard down and snatched Louis’ punching wrist with both hands, burrowing his claws into the skin for maximum grip, and this turn-around admittedly wasn't ideal. With a quick spin for speed, Harry flung Louis away from him like a baseball bat that slipped from its batter’s hands, hurling him straight into the far wall in the west living room, left without a hope to catch himself before he'd make contact.

And boy was contact made. Louis’ back slammed against the wall so hard it's a miraculous wonder he didn't go all the way through it—but he _did_ go through a hefty number of glass objects to get there. The priceless vases and bowls on the most decorated table were now irreparably shattered, and he only had time for a twinge of guilt before he needed to react again.

Harry was charging him like a rabid bull and he had only precious moments to plan a counterattack, but fickle time ran out, so he leapt skyward in hopes to overstep Harry’s reach.

The Roman seamlessly shifted his objective and grabbed Louis’ ankle, straining his muscles to pull him back down when he was jarringly pulled instead.

Louis twisted his body and wrenched his leg up, lifting Harry right off the floor and throwing off his hold. Once Harry was above him, he jutted his other leg out and kicked Harry directly in the face, sending him straight into the wall above the front doors. He landed seamlessly before Harry had hit the floor, and as Harry was grunting and trying to stand, Louis dashed forward and grabbed Harry by the throat, letting out a primal roar as he thrust him arm downward and pummeled the Emperor into the ground.

He struggled to mount Harry’s hips, and they both growled at each other while Louis ripped the shirt from his Roman’s body. Before he could get to his pants, Harry had regained his strength, and the Roman got his knee up high enough to kick Louis in the stomach, giving it his all to be freed.

Louis cried out and bounced off the ground he landed on, snarling when Harry got a hold on his jeans and pulled them from his legs, taking off his shoes in the process. He scrambled away before Harry could get to his underwear, retreating to the second story to come up with the next plan of action.

Louis had traveled so fast that Harry had to look around first before he found him, following his nose and glaring up the stairs while Louis likely debated how he'd win this. He sprinted up the steps and lashed his claws out, infuriatingly hitting thin air when Louis successfully ran away from him. “You can't escape me,” he seethed, his endorphin glands dripping with the hypnotic chemicals he could use to subdue his difficult lover.

Louis caught his breath around the corner of the hall, rolling his eyes at Harry’s baseless assumptions. “I'm faster than you,” he replied, resuming his frantic retreat when he heard Harry rampaging down the hall after him.

“You may be faster. But I have more endurance,” Harry fired back as he caught up to the King, almost catching the back of Louis’ shirt before he jumped out the way.

Louis took the route of backtracking, attempting to jump backward over Harry to throw the Roman off. The move was desperate and erratic though, and Harry caught him with strong arms around his thighs, having anticipated exactly what his lover would do.

They wrestled on the ground like their lives depended on it, throwing as many punches, scratches, and kicks in as they could to protect themselves. “I own you,” Louis hissed, raking his claws up Harry’s jeans to tear the article to shreds.

Harry shouted from the pain in his legs and elbowed Louis in the temple, his head loudly hitting the floor with a cringe-worthy thump and giving the Roman enough time to make his move. He struck his fangs out and burrowed them into the side of Louis’ waist, pumping his body full of his endorphins, and finally laying the much needed trap.

Louis had tried to sit back up, but once Harry’s teeth captured his skin, he fell down powerlessly, a guttural moan filling the length of the second story hallway. He almost lost himself to the pleasure, but when he felt his shirt stripped from his body, he came back to his senses, using every ounce of his withering strength to free himself from the bite. He grabbed Harry’s hair and yanked him off, fully aware that Harry would concede and retract his fangs before making brutally deep incisions with them.

It worked and Louis flung himself into a crouch, launching forward and colliding with Harry’s chest, knocking him onto _his_ back instead. He got close to Harry’s neck and his mouth hissed of its own volition, his fangs dripping with endorphins that splashed onto Harry’s throat. He wanted to bite so fucking badly, but this was only a distraction. Once Harry was fixated on Louis’ fangs, gripping his shoulders and trying to hold him back, Louis rapidly scooted away, making sure to take every piece of clothing from Harry’s lower body with him.

He could tell Harry was nervous now that he was naked first, but Louis wasn't interested in staking his claim yet; they had blood waiting for them by the fireplace and they needed to reup soon, so he stood from the floor and calmly walked away, turning the corner and not looking back once.

Being ignored angered Harry more than being overpowered and he flew after him, growling as Louis spun around in fear. He slammed into him and they keeled over, instantly locked in a tense match to bite the other and get the upperhand. They rolled onto their sides and Harry's fangs were inches from Louis’ neck, but Louis had the same advantage, both immortals strangling each other with one hand while they tried to sink their fangs in anywhere they could get.

“You're not...gonna be able to...do anything if you...die again!” Louis wheezed, letting go and harshly punching Harry in the throat, snorting when the affronted Roman made the most ridiculous choking hack sound. He crawled away as Harry was momentarily distracted, happy to finally see the top of the stairs.

Before he could stand and get back to the blood bags, Harry had gotten over the shock and flashed up behind him. _Zeus, make him stop._ He threw an elbow back to block Harry’s advance but the Roman was too quick, slapping his elbow away and tackling him like a vampiric football player.

They'd both been too close to the edge of the second story for a move like that, and they instantly crashed into the metal bars of the railing, breaking through them and freefalling down to the first story floor. They landed in a painful heap and grunted from the force, mildly disorientated as they tried to get their bearings.

Louis realized he was closer to the fireplace so he scrambled over to the box, throwing four bags in Harry’s direction and taking four for himself. The panting Roman caught them all and downed the contents in one go, moaning from the euphoric rush while Louis polished off his.

“How about we even the field?” Harry suggested in a raspy voice from getting his throat pulverized, standing with a sore ache in his side and crossing his arms.

Louis dropped his last empty bag and stood as well, his breathing labored with exhaustion as he configured what that meant. He looked at the striking naked body of Harry and then to his own, noting that his underwear was the last clothing item between the two of them. “What, take these off? Why would I help you?” he scoffed, sliding them down his legs anyway because in the end, it didn't matter.

Harry hissed and ran forward with rejuvenized speed, and Louis soared _far_ above him this time, now able to do it effectively. He landed in the corner of the west living room and grabbed the loveseat he'd moved, turning around and hurling it at the oncoming Roman. He chased after it without a second’s delay and added to the weight when it hit Harry’s chest, jumping off the top when Harry was knocked to the ground and skidding to a stop at the hallway that was blocked by the coffee table.

Harry was only given the time to shove the love seat off of himself and stand up before the airborne coffee table was inches from his face, and he held his forearms out again, letting them take the brunt of the impact and closing his eyes when the wood splintered into tiny little pieces that floated around him. Once the sandstorm of wood chips had subsided, he opened his eyes, and now instead of furniture, it was Louis who was right in front of him.

“Shit,” he gritted, his panic at an all-time high as Louis caught him in his arms and pounded him onto the floor.

“Submit to me, Harry!” Louis growled, corralling the Roman’s flailing limbs to hopefully keep him constrained.

“ _Never_ ,” Harry snarled, thrashing his way into a sitting position to get out of Louis’ deadly embrace.

Harry sitting up was the best outcome Louis could have asked for, and with the strength of his two thousand, three hundred and twenty-nine years of existence, he reached around and dug both sets of claws into the same side of Harry’s back, triumphantly rolling the Roman over onto his stomach.

Harry hissed menacingly over his shoulder, and maybe he would have eventually wrangled free, but he never got the chance. Louis’ fangs found their way to his upper back, and the second they pierced his skin, the flood of the King’s endorphins melted his world.

Once embedded in Harry’s flesh, the rush of the Roman’s borrowed blood spilled into Louis’ mouth, and both vampires’ cocks hardened from the primal sensation. Harry stilled his frantic movements to ward him off, and Louis’ hand swiped underneath his fangs’ intrusion to collect the blood that had pooled out onto the surface of Harry’s skin, slicking the warm substance over his throbbing shaft for lubrication.

“Get—off of me!” Harry bellowed in a last-ditch attempt after regaining a moment of precious clarity, breaking through the fuzzy haze of his endorphin high to try one last time to save himself.

Louis hissed against Harry’s shoulder blade as a response and shot an excess of powerful chemicals down into the bite marks. Harry groaned and helplessly fought back against the maddening pleasure, and Louis guided his cock to Harry’s hole at the same time. In those last few moments of their passionate duel, Harry used every muscle group he could isolate to break away; he tried _so damn hard_ to get Louis off, desperately clawing at the floorboards to pull himself out from under the King, but the ecstasy of his endorphins was far too strong, and Louis had now successfully breached his way inside of him.

Louis moaned in victorious satisfaction as he drove his cock deep into Harry’s unprepared entrance and nestled in the furthest he could go, the Roman finally submitting to him and whining in crazed solace, giving every inch of his body over to the only one who deserved to have it. Continuous waves of pleasure still coiled through his system from Louis’ saliva, and it all shot straight to his groin, his cock spewing out an unwarranted release as his inner walls contracted around a violation it had not experienced in a heart-breakingly long time. His head dropped down on its left side and he dreamily gazed at the front doors through heavy eyelids, his body intermittently twitching from the heavenly sensations that coursed through it.

Louis took his teeth out of Harry’s trembling back and rested his forehead over the puncture wounds, both immortals covered in blood and gasping for air as they adjusted to the physical connection Louis had forced. The King pressed light kisses over his lover's back while he waited, stroking Harry’s tangled hair and pushing it off his face for him. “I win,” he whispered coyly when the time was right, rolling his hips to push even deeper inside, chuckling when Harry wailed and arched his spine in encouragement.

“Please, Louis!” Harry begged through the sorest of throats, his skin burning as he suffered in wait, subtly pressing his hips back to win the internal friction himself.

“Please what? Fuck you to death? But you’re so cute like this,” Louis replied, sitting back on his knees and grabbing ahold of Harry’s hips, only to make small, barely noticeable ruts with his pelvis, determined to make Harry lose his mind first.

“No, come back,” Harry croaked, a leaden hand jumping from the floor to beckon his lover, and then flopping back down weakly as his eyes closed for the time being. “Close to you.”

“You want to be close to me?” Louis guessed, cocking his head to the side as he held in his laughter. He could see the annoyed eyebrow furrow that Harry made in response to the stupid question, and it only made Louis love him more. Even through the fog of bliss incarnate, Harry could still be sassy and agitated.

“Come here,” Harry whispered simply, his eyes still closed as he heaved oxygen through parted lips.

Louis almost didn’t listen but the pleading desperation in Harry’s tone stopped him for a second; Harry may be incorrigible, ignorant, and sometimes downright impossible, but he’d still waited centuries for this. He’d cried himself to sleep, partaken in self-destructive behavior to dull the pain, and built a sodding shrine in a mansion for him. He'd mourned Alexander with every shred of his existence, trudging through every night like he had two-ton shackles clamped onto his ankles, and he’d made it all the way to 1973 in one piece...he deserved to get whatever he wanted. Just this night.

Louis smiled and laid himself down atop Harry’s back, nuzzling the crook of his neck and running his palms along Harry’s sprawled out arms, hooking his fingers in-between Harry’s over the tops of his hands and pulling them closer to the Roman’s head. “Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, his hips rocking into Harry in a smooth and steady pace, igniting Harry’s core and spreading fire throughout his veins.

“You know how it feels to me, Louixander. You know me,” Harry gasped, reaching a hand back to guide Louis’ head to his neck where it had just previously been.

Louis grinned and licked up Harry’s bared neck, shoving a hand under his chest to hold him still while he bit into the skin, his thrusts dramatically increasing in power as the rush of extra life beat its way through his system.

Harry mewled and kept his hips lifted, the breath from his lungs stunted every time Louis rammed into his body, leaving him in a state of perpetual yearning for air. Their bodies fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces no matter who was inside whom, and Harry had missed this feeling more than he’d even realized—he couldn’t believe he’d gone this long without. How had he even coped? Oh, right...he hadn’t. “Fuck me,” he said, now gratified and composed enough to withstand whatever Louis could dole out.

“You wanna get fucked by a King?” Louis asked after he’d released Harry’s neck in interest of his words, biting his lip and grinning at Harry’s submissive groveling.

“By _my_ King,” Harry corrected, yelping when Louis sat up and took his hipbones with him, thereby dragging Harry a little ways across the scratchy rug beneath them and elevating his bottom half from his top, the Roman still too weak to push his chest off the floor.

“That’s right,” Louis accepted, slicing down Harry’s back with his claws and licking at the blood as the immortal cried out in delicious agony. “I _am_ your fucking King.”

Louis’ nails finally found a permanent home in Harry’s lower torso, bordering the prominent bones of his pelvis, and he slid his cock nearly all the way out of Harry’s passage, only to make him jolt by slamming back in and repeating the motion as many times as it took before Harry started sobbing. “Gods, I love it when you cry for me, my sweet amans. _Amans aeternam_ ,” he groaned, brutalizing Harry’s overwhelmed body and loving every second of what it did to him. He held his Roman’s hips in a vice grip, flexing every muscle in his abdomen to drive his hips in and out of the warmest, softest place his cock would ever want to be. “Keep crying for me, my love. Show me how you feel.”

“I missed you so much,” Harry whimpered through his tears, yipping and gasping every time Louis’ hand smacked across his arse or thighs, finally getting the strength to prop himself up on his elbows, furthermore pushing onto his hands. “I waited so long for this, I can't stand it. Please let me come,” he requested weakly, twisting his neck to catch a glimpse of his amazing lover at work.

“No,” Louis shot down, his arm shooting forward to snatch a fistful of Harry’s hair and tilt his head up to face the ceiling. “You do what I say when I say it. I’m not nearly done with you yet,” he said, taking his other hand (with embedded claws) out of Harry’s right hip and grabbing more of that long and billowing hair, using it all as a leash for purchase. “Now. Stay. There. And. Take it,” he emphasized in a fierce growl, pulling on the hair tangled around his fingers while he crashed his pelvis against Harry’s arse again and again, the sickeningly amazing slide of blood easing his route better than genuine lubricant.

Harry couldn’t stop the string of curses and expletives that fell from his lips, crying out for Alexander, Louis, and Louixander combined interchangeably as he was enslaved under the King’s total control, completely at his savage and nonexistent mercy. “Don't stop, Mégas! Don't ever stop! _Nolite prohibere_! _Conteret me_!” he rambled, his jaw clenched as he breathed heavily through his teeth.

“Turn around,” Louis barked instead, pulling out and helping Harry flip over because the Roman was far too slow about it. He bit into Harry’s upper arm and ripped his fangs back out, lathering more spilled blood onto his cock while Harry moaned deep in his throat from the instant effects of the bite.

He pushed back inside Harry’s pliant hole and picked up where he'd left off, Harry’s moan tapering off into a hiss as he hooked his ankles around Louis’ back, his own back burning from the coarse fibre of the rug as he was roughly dragged along it inch by inch from Louis’ relentless thrusts.

Louis ducked down and threw Harry’s right leg over his shoulder to spread him out a bit, falling onto his elbows and sinking his teeth into Harry’s lower neck. Harry yelped and shockingly reciprocated the action, craning his neck upward to catch Louis’ with his fangs as well. Louis was taken aback by the independent action but he couldn’t deny it felt amazing, and he let Harry drink his fill from him, his hips’ sturdy pace faltering as he was overcome with both a blood intake high, and an extraction high.

The term “overcome” went for both of them. One of their favourite things to do, the ouroboros as Alexander had called it, was a shameless and intense pleasure they liked to indulge in. They matched the speed of their drinking so that everything flowed in one continuous, never-ending loop, each taking what they were giving in a simultaneous, dimension-bending act.

Louis smoothed a loving hand over Harry’s hair and held the back of his head for him so he wasn't straining so hard, his other hand wrapping behind Harry’s thigh to keep it in place because it had begun slipping off his shoulder. A low rumble emitted from his throat, and he was starting to worry that he might come soon.

With that in mind, Louis released his Roman from his fangs and Harry did too, his curly-haired head thumping onto the floor while he scrambled around his mind for coherent words. “I know...that sound,” he panted, referring to Louis’ impassioned growl from moments ago. “You're...getting...close.”

“How could I not?” Louis mused in appreciation, pushing Harry’s leg to the ground and holding onto his hands as he rocked into him, keeping his orgasm at bay for as long as he could.

“I want you to—” Harry began breathlessly, breaking their handhold and marking his nails up Louis’ back as he felt himself reach the edge as well. “—to come. Please. I need to feel it inside me,” he added for good measure, his toes curling in anticipation.

“Not like this,” Louis scoffed, halting Harry’s gradual ascension to climax as he was forced to ponder those words.

“Not like what?” the Roman asked, loudly complaining when Louis pulled out of him for the second time.

“On your fucking knees,” Louis barked, shoving Harry over impatiently. “If you’re going to whine like a dog, I’m going to fuck you like one,” he taunted, stroking his own red-tinted cock as he waited for Harry to obey him.

Harry abided, resourcing the last of his strength to hold himself up, sorely depleted and drained of his usual energy. He spread his legs and arched his back, screaming in his head for Louis to take the offering. Louis slammed back inside his hole without warning and he sobbed in both relief and pain, happily enduring the fastest and most sadistic thrusts yet.

“You want to come, you fucking whore?” Louis seethed, digging his claws into Harry’s shoulders and holding him prisoner.

“Yes! Yes— _please_!” Harry groveled, goosebumps traveling up the backs of his thighs as they quivered and shook uncontrollably. He couldn’t hold himself up a second longer, but Louis had him trapped, pointedly making sure he was unable to escape his clutches. His arms trembled under his weight, and he raspily panted through the overexertion, his body fighting to maintain its position because he knew he wouldn’t get what he wanted if he failed.

“Who’s the fucking Elder, huh? Who’s your Elder?” Louis goaded, two seconds from unloading his come but he wanted to hear the response. He _needed_ to—it would send him headfirst over the cliff.

“You’re the Elder! My Asian King! My ruler! Aléxandros ho Mégas of Macedon, King of the world, superior to all, second to none—” He cut off with a garbled hiss as Louis hollered and came deep inside his body, his own cock shooting out his second release as he screeched into the dismantled living room.

For a few short seconds, they were nothing more than animals, grunting and snarling as they rode out their mind-numbing highs. Louis fell forward onto Harry’s back and they both crashed to the floor, both chests widely expanding and contracting as they suffocated from the overwhelming heaven of their sex. The sound of pants and gasps were all that filled the room for awhile, Louis reluctantly pulling out when he softened and sharply smacking Harry upside the head when he tried to gripe about it. Harry spluttered but said nothing, contentedly stuck under Louis’ weight as they fell back down to Earth.

Louis turned his face sideways and gazed toward the fireplace, the box of blood that sat there whispering his name the longer he stared at it. He had negative amounts of energy, but he wanted to be higher, so he got his arms under Harry’s torso and started rolling them across the floor.

“What the—” Harry muttered, arcing over Louis’ body only to be knocked back into the ground as Louis used the momentum to swing himself over again. The Roman chuckled in amusement as they gradually crossed the length of the room one exhausted and struggle-filled roll at a time. “You are so ridiculous,” he said as he watched the ceiling pass by him, pushed down into the rug as Louis kept the wheel going.

“Shut up,” Louis grumbled, finally reaching the box after two more rolls and tipping it over to set free the collection of bags, his hand slapping at them while he scooped them over. He slid off Harry’s back and uncapped the nearest bag, holding it above his mouth and letting it spill out into the back of his throat. Once he’d been decently revitalized, he helped Harry drink his by setting it beside his mouth, petting the Roman’s spine as he lifted his head up and sank his teeth into the bag. “You were incredible,” he praised, laying himself down on his side and playing with Harry’s hair.

Harry spit the bag out of his mouth with fervor when he was done, his abused skull clunking back to the ground while he flicked his eyes open to meet Louis’. “You just gave me the best sex in four centuries and you’re telling _me_ that _I_ was incredible?” he slurred, a lazy grin displaying his shining teeth.

“What, you didn’t like having sex with me as a human?” Louis inquired, prepared to slap the shit out of Harry if he said yes.

“Of course I did,” Harry negated, his voice unable to resonate above the level of a groggy croak. “But I had to be careful. I don’t have to anymore...it’s a relief. Fucking you won’t scare me anymore,” he explained, finally energized enough to push himself up to sit, lucky and thankful that his body healed fast or he would definitely _not_ be able to sit right now. “Let me return the favour,” he crooned, sliding his right hand up Louis’ face and combing through his hair, scooting himself over to press their lips together.

Louis let himself mold to the kiss and Harry’s body, accepting when he was laid down upon the rug. Harry broke the kiss and left a trail down Louis’ neck instead, knocking his knees apart with his own to have room as he nudged down between his thighs. “You want to fuck me now? We probably don't have time for that,” Louis laughed, admittedly impressed that Harry even had the vigor to after everything he’d been through.

“I need to. I needed both, you have no idea...just real quick before they get back,” he said, taking the last of Louis’ blood bag and using the liquid for the same sick purpose that Louis did. “Are you gonna let me?” he paused to ask, the tip of his cock pressed against Louis’ hole but not entering quite yet. Louis had just gotten over being the carnal alpha of the two, and sometimes that authoritative mindset takes time to flip, but Harry also knew that Louis probably wanted him just as badly. And who knows when their next chance to do this will be?

Louis smiled and nodded his head, raising his legs and throwing his arms around Harry’s neck. “I'll always let you,” he whispered, smashing their lips together as Harry moaned into the kiss and pushed inside him, easing his hips back and forth before he would inevitably pick up the pace and utterly destroy him...and probably more furniture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as the Latin goes, "amans aeternam" means "eternal lover" so that's what Louixander said, and Harry's shouts of "nolite prohibere" and "conteret me" meant "do not stop" and "destroy me" lmao.  
> Alright, this chapter originally had so much more in it. Like...a lot more stuff was going to happen, but it'll have to be the next one since I went a little overboard on the word count. Not my fault, ZEUS I had the best time writing it. I do not eveeennn care about negative feedback, I will be proud of this forever haha. For those who liked it, I dub thee special and precious to me, and I'll see you guys next time. Which will hopefully fall within the lines of two days again, I'd hate to take any longer than that :/


	20. Kill Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I feel like such an asshole. Sorry my uploads are two days apart now. I'm not even gonna try to say I'll fix it, it's my limit at this point in time. Hope you enjoy thisss, I will outline and start 21 tonight :)

“You did the best you could, baby,” Zayn cooed as Harlock drove the bus through Harry’s rickety gate, holding onto the back of the built-in couches because the steep incline made them all slant backward. “Once everything blows over, you can go see them every once in awhile...we can even get a makeup artist to make you look older,” he compromised, rubbing up and down Niall’s arm with a comforting hand.

“I know,” Niall sniffled, drying his disobedient tears and sighing. Things had gone as well as they could with Maura and Bobby, but they were also a bit sad he was leaving high school, and they expressed that plainly...how sad would they be to know the _truth_? He supposes he should be satisfied with the outcome, because it could have been worse.

“Oh, for the _love_ of—” Harlock muttered, capturing everyone's attention from the palpable edge of exasperation in his voice.

“What?” Zayn inquired, pushing himself off the couch and walking up to look out the driver’s side window at whatever Harlock was seeing. Which was a broken side table on the lawn that had obviously been thrown out the shattered window, the dirt surrounding it decorated with glinting shards of glass in the moonlight. “I see…” he quipped, his nose itching from the potent scents of blood and sex.

“Should we even go in?” Jenner asked, him and Niall staring out the window after raising the curtain in curiosity.

“I don't even want to imagine what they must have done with the place,” Martin groaned, absentmindedly playing with Tanner’s voluminous tufts of hair from the opposite section of couch. As a friend of Harry, he was happy and proud for him...but as a butler to the mansion…

“To quote our dear Louis, no use staring at it,” Harlock decided, killing the engine and stretching his arms above his head.

The group unhurriedly made their way down the steps of the bus and pooled outside, walking around the vehicle and individually waiting for someone else other than them to go in first.

The folky sounds of The Grateful Dead filtered out into the night through the gaping square in the wall where panes of glass used to be, and smitten giggles could also be heard from inside the living room.

That ‘someone else to go first’ person ended up being Martin, who with a great and reluctant sigh, crossed the front lawn and leapt up the steps to the front doors. The group followed behind and filed in after the butler waltzed into the house, running into each other’s backs because Martin had come to a dead halt.

“ _Really_? No, really? You expect me to fix _this_?” the butler cried, glaring at the Elder couple as everyone else made their way around him and Jenner shut the door.

Zayn squeezed past Tanner and Niall to see what had become of his Elder friends, and he had to bite back a cackle at what he found. Harry and Louis were sprawled on the floor, cuddled up together under mounds of duvets and blankets and atop a large collection of pillows, clearly butt naked underneath, and smoking casual cigarettes as they marinated in the cooldown of the world’s roughest session of sex.

Before anything was said, Zayn’s eyes took in the state of the interior, and he was definitely glad they'd been sent away while this went down. Everything was broken. Chips of wood from a former coffee table and multi-sized pieces of random glass absolutely littered the floor. There were craters and cracks on every wall in numerous places, and some of the lines went from the point of impact all the way up to the crown moulding by the ceiling. Feathers from ruined pillow seats coated the floor in such excess that unless he knew better, he'd think he'd walked into a chicken coop. The second story landing was missing an _entire_ section of its railing because the awkwardly bent metal bars were now on the floor of the first story, the fireplace was missing some bricks, and of course there's the earlier mentioned side table out the window. Need he go on? “You really went at it,” he noted after his assessments were made, nodding his head in something that translated to approval.

“He's a savage,” Harry cooed to his lover under his left arm, planting short and tiny kisses on Louis’ cheek and temple while the King squeaked out high-pitched laughter in response.

“What _I_ want to know,” Martin began ragefully, jabbing his finger toward the corner of the room above the record player, “is how the actual fuck your sex managed to get a table through a window.”

“Oh, that was just me,” Louis informed, his smile widening at Martin’s dubious expression. “I never liked how it blocked the record player, and I needed to put music on...so I disposed of it.”

“Violently,” Harry added with pride, humming along to The Dead’s _Mountains Of The Moon_ from their ‘Aoxomoxoa’ album, the almost medieval celtic twang of it somewhat reminding him of Greensleeves.

“Hey, how'd it go?” Louis asked Niall, sitting up straighter once he'd remembered where the group had even gone.

“Oh, you know...they just kinda...hit me with that parental look they've spent my entire life perfecting. Tried to guilt-trip me into staying and finishing high school. Almost worked until I remembered my species,” he snorted, leaning back against his beloved maker when he came up behind him and coiled his arms around his abdomen.

Zayn couldn't help it. Hearing the term “species” and knowing that Niall’s entire DNA had shifted to match his own because of a bond _he’d_ formed; knowing that it had been _his_ blood to turn Niall’s into the black substance of an immortal’s, _his_ endorphins to initially pierce his virgin neck...it was all too much. Niall was indescribably important to him. He had been before, but now he was his personal and beautiful immortal creation—Zayn was a fully matured vampire now. He'd taken a human life and given the victim his piece of immortality instead, and he'd done it _respectably_.

If he's not making any sense, let him explain. Vampires from a young age are constantly nagged by a fierce desire to turn those who are not of their kind. From an evolutionary standpoint, that type of drive generally correlates to breeding and increasing population growth, yes? But vampires can breed neither each other nor humans. In an interspecies, heterosexual couple, neither can fertilize any eggs, and neither can conceive. So, naturally, the next thing they can do to grow their population is make more vampires.

Yet there’s no _reason_ to make more vampires. They’re not endangered, they’re not “dying out,” and they’re not going anywhere. So giving in to your urge to pointlessly turn humans is seen as a sign of weakness—weakness to your own instincts—and it was heavily looked down upon by the sensible immortals of the world’s richest families. If you can’t be stronger than yourself, how can you be stronger than anyone else? Going against and overcoming your instincts is seen as admirable and noteworthy, and though the urge to kill was glorified by their kind, the urge to create was most certainly not. In fact, it was taboo among their culture.

Not punishable by any law, because they have no government, but vampires were sometimes taken out if they were rummaging around and turning entire towns of people at a time. Some immortals think it barbaric and deplorable, and some think it only natural and praiseworthy, but that whole mess comes down to the paradigm of aristocrats—the ones who wanted to stay hidden, and the ones who wanted to be known. In other words, the guardians and the predators.

But enough about that. Zayn isn’t trying to get into immortal politics, it’s an utter shitfest—he’s just trying to say that as far as the guardians would be concerned, he was now a responsible and matured vampire by becoming a creator in the socially acceptable way; when it was logical and prudent. Not when he couldn't control himself and got lost in the vampire nature.

“Zayn!” Louis snapped, having grown both concerned and annoyed because Zayn had gradually backed himself into a wall and become catatonic while the rest of them had been talking.

“Sorry, what?” Zayn asked with a clearing of his throat, walking back to the group and kissing Niall atop the head. “I was just thinkin’ about stuff,” he said, painting an innocent smile on his face.

“Right… Did you feed your fish?” Louis asked; he didn't care one bit but he figured he'd make an inquiry.

“Nope. Didn’t need to. Thomas lives at my place and he’s been feeding them. Pretty meticulously considering his life is on the line and all...but I did visit.”

“Visit who, Thomas?”

“No, my _fish_ ,” Zayn stressed to Louis, the Elder raising his eyebrows uncaringly.

“And what lovely fish they were,” Niall cooed, earning himself a passionate kiss in response.

"Ugh, can someone turn off the record player? _What's Become Of The Baby_ always puts me in a weird mood," Louis requested, sighing in relief when Zayn walked to the stand and took the needle off the vinyl, lifting the saucer from his base and slipping it in its sleeve. No offense to The Grateful Dead but that's a damn weird song.

“When are we heading out?” Harlock piped, trying to braid sections of Jenner’s curly orange hair but failing miserably because he wasn’t putting his all into it, and this hair was especially rebellious. “Sunrise will always come no matter what.”

“What time is it?” Louis asked, completely lacking any concept of time after the sex he’d had with Harry. That had ruled over silly little fabricated measurements like time—but yes, the sun would always rise, and that’s a problem.

“It’s midnight,” Harlock answered, re-checking Jenner’s watch just to be sure. “Yup. Filled the bus up with gas too. Wasn’t easy but I did it. Also got some good food for Jenner, so I don’t think we’ll have to make any more stops until sunrise...after leaving your house, that is,” he added to the King, still unsure of what this mission of his was because he hadn’t exactly gone into detail.

“Harlock, I have something to ask of you but I’m not sure how you’ll react,” Louis began, staring into the single eye of Harlock and giving him a hopeful expression just to help his case.

“Elder Louis, I would do most anything for you,” Harlock pledged with a hand crossed over his heart, marking his loyalty to the Asian King as absolute. The things he would not do were obvious, and they mostly regarded Jenner; he wouldn’t put his warlock in unnecessary danger, wouldn’t give him up, that kind of thing. But if the King needed a favour, and Harlock could do it, nothing would stop him. That went for everyone else here too, and he was well aware Louis already knew that.  

“Our next stop is to my house to rescue my Mother. Her name is Stacey, she is frail and abused, and cannot stay in that house a day longer. We have no immediate family I could take her to, and it’s not ethical to drop her into the hands of more alcoholics who won’t take good care of her...I think you know where I’m going with this but I’ll ask anyway. Will you take her into your community and protect her?” he pleaded, all heads turning to Harlock to catch his response.

“My King, it would be an honour and a privilege to house your human Mother. Of course I accept your request, with an honoured heart. I shall consider her my own family and my people will watch over her as such. This I swear,” he pledged, kneeling down to really drive his acceptance home.

“How formal. You’re very English,” Louis noted with a light chuckle, motioning his hand for Harlock to rise back up.

“Very English, yes. I can’t help that,” Harlock grinned, pulling Jenner back into his arms when he stood.

“Thank you for your help, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” Louis said with a voice full of gratitude, holding his palms together and slightly bowing his head; saying thanks in the only way he’d ever known.

“An enemy to our Elders is an enemy to us. A friend is our treasured kin,” Harlock vowed, Jenner furiously nodding his head while everyone else additionally confirmed it in their eyes.

“Such respect you all have. You will each make a fine Elder as your time passes—and Jenner will make a fine old man,” he added, the fire-haired warlock giving him a lopsided smile. “Until then though, let us think only on the present...which tells me we should head out. All of you go into the kitchen and wait for us,” Louis ordered pleasantly, flexing his feet then pointing them under the blanket as he trained his body how to walk again.

The group bowed their heads and strolled off to the kitchen as they erupted in individual conversation, and though Louis had made it seem like leaving would be imminent, he found he could focus on nothing more than his lover’s skin pressed up against his side—the warm hand stroking the top and inner part of his thigh. It was maddening. Everything they’d done in the last however long that had been was maddening.

After he’d fucked the four-century-long dominance out of Harry’s system, the exact same thing had happened to him. He’d been picked up, thrown around, and shoved into walls while Harry rocked into him in that typical Roman Emperor way he always had, and he was immeasurably tired and worn out because of it. They’d indulged in their favourite pastime of ouroboros too many times to count, and their original immortal bloods were now fifty-fifty in their bodies again—just like it always should be.

That’s why ouroboros was their favourite act. It was how they’d stayed close to each other in Louis’ first life no matter the distance; they’d each had half their original blood, and half the other’s in their veins. It was a bit annoying to know that Martin shared Alexander’s blood as well because that blood belonged to none other than Harry _alone_ , but Louis understands why that had been necessary, and really he’s glad that Harry had found himself a friend to keep him company. All his numbing grief had been turning him into an empty shell and Martin couldn’t have gotten impaled by a wooden stake at a better time...if that’s not too insensitive to say.

“Why did you tell them to wait?” Harry asked impishly, his lips immediately attaching to Louis’ neck while the hand on Louis’ thigh slipped inward to fondle his sack because he figured the King wanted to partake in more lecherous activities.

“Not now, you slut,” Louis chuckled, pushing Harry off playfully and shaking his head at him. “Unbelievable...all that and you’d still be ready for more.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Harry challenged, slinking under the blanket and kissing down Louis’ torso in a rather suggestive route.

“I said _not now_ , you dunce,” Louis repeated, flinging the blanket off and grabbing Harry by the hair. “We have packing to do...I think,” he said unsurely, still itching to get down into the basement bedroom to see if there was anything of importance. And if Harry wanted to suck him off, he could certainly do it there. Regardless of what you may have seen so far, Alexander and Louis were more private with their sexual relationships than their immortal kin.

Even as a human, Alexander had stayed within the confines of his quarters to make love to his beautiful partners. Whereas most of his guard, cavalry, and advisors could be found publicly buried into the orifices of _hetaerae_ , _eromenos_ , or any other kind of dignified companions of sex in large brothels and celebrations, he himself had never taken part in the Bacchanalian revelries. Instead, he would quietly come up behind Hephaestion and gently caress the entrance between his legs to show his intent, and discreetly pull him by the wrist from the shamed orgies of his people.

They would then run through the corridors of the Empire, giggling like drunken fools because they often were, and trip over themselves on their way to his bed. If not Hephaestion, that is if he were busy at the time, he would choose Bagoas; and even though Bagoas was a powerless eunuch companion, and had priorly belonged to Darius, Alexander had shown him the same decent respect and privacy that he gave his real lover. Such is the kind of human he had always been, so likewise, his immortal self hadn’t had much interest in public displays of fornication (blood-drinking is quite different), and that privacy extended to even his closest of friends.

Harry would never understand. He was a Roman. A filthy, debaucherous, grotesquely promiscuous Roman. _The nerve_ …

“You expect me to resist the temptation of your body? To relinquish the rights I was granted in 455?” Harry demanded in mock offense, snickering when Louis punched him in the arm.

“Come, my slut. Let us venture into the depths of your mansion of creeps,” Louis quipped, wrapping a sheet around his lower body and sighing in exasperation when Harry stood but did nothing of the sort. He walked off toward the stairs and climbed them carefully, mindful of stepping on the front of the sheet skirt, while Harry skipped up at a faster pace, full of energy and gloriously naked. “You are filled with vanity, you knew this, correct?” he muttered fondly, the pair making their wordless way up the rest of the stairs to reach the fourth floor east hallway.

Once at least some amount of distance had grown between themselves and their kitchen company below, Harry responded to the earlier jab, knowing that Louixander would rather not want to talk of such things freely. Sometimes he didn’t care, and would make all kinds of filthy sexual threats within others’ hearing range, but most of the time he was reserved, and Harry thought it was adorable. “Vanity is Roman, my dear enigma, and Rome is I,” he declared incorrigibly, obscenely slapping his hands onto his own thighs and dragging them up his chest.

“How could I forget?” Louis scoffed in a tone that attested no such forgettings had been had.

“I still don’t know how you are so shied with your body, Louixander. You were a _King_ , and a heavenly alluring one at that. Had you no pride in the curves of your body?” he reasoned for the millionth time, talking over the groan of impatience from his private lover. “How can I have so much confidence, and you none?” he begged, grunting when he was swiftly smacked into the left wall and held hostage by an irritated Louis.

“Listen to me, you pixie. We’ve had this talk before, and I know what you’re doing. You want my answer, you want me to stroke your ego, and you want to feel special,” he accused, the guilty-but-proud-of-it glint in Harry’s eyes making his own roll in return.  

“Louis, you dishonour yourself,” Harry murmured, a hand coming up between their arousing proximity to feel the hills of his defined cheekbones. “Hold yourself to a higher standard than that, my love. Merely touching you strokes my ego. Being the only one to kiss your lips, to hold you in sleep, to come inside your body... It’s all a gift to me,” he breathed, freeing his other hand and delicately holding his love’s face under his reverent fingertips.  

“Fine,” Louis croaked, heartbeat still going strong because they’d drunk more blood shortly before their group’s bus had returned. He removed his forearm from Harry’s collarbones and joined his hand with the one at his hip, his fingers coyly unfolding the sheet from his lower half and bringing the edges with him as he placed both hands upon the wall on either side of Harry’s frame, enclosing them both in the fabric wrap and creating a guard from invisible eyes.  

“You don’t have to say it, you know,” Harry said, his hands finding a home on the sides of Louis’ waist, glancing down their fronts and smiling in appreciation.

“I know that but you drive a tough bargain,” Louis purred, scooting in as close as they could get without fusing into one being, ensuring nearly every inch of their torsos and chests were pressing against each other. “I am shy with my body because that is how I was raised. Not how the Greeks were raised, mind you, but it is how my Mother saw it. I believe that only the family, the medics, and the lovers may see such a sight, as it will only benefit or become relevant or necessary to those mentioned…” he began, his lips dancing over Harry’s nipples while the Roman’s breathing picked up in speed.

“Go on,” Harry continued, knocking his head back against the wall and gazing down at his shorter and more powerful Louis.

“Well if I were to show my naked form on a battlefield, what good would it do? Would it serve a purpose? No. It would not. The things I can do with a clothed body, and my unmatched prowess for the horrors of war are what help me in a battlefield. A naked body in itself serves no purpose, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, nudging a thigh between Harry’s legs and smirking when Harry flinched at the pleasure from the warm slide of their flesh.

“I see your point, yes,” Harry gasped, moving his hands from the small of Louis’ back to hold the plush mounds of his arse.

“But to a member of family or an owned slave of one, must a naked body be shown to dress and bathe when an infant cannot do it yet themselves? Must a medic see the parts of the body in need of care or healing? Must a _lover_ —” he emphasized, standing on his tiptoes to kiss the answer up Harry’s neck. “—need those crucial, most private parts of such a body for their well-earned gratification? Be it to procreate, be it to please, lovers deserve it most, above all others,” he explained, his tongue tracing intermittent circles on Harry’s sensitive and scarred skin.

“In regards to me...” Harry selfishly pressed, loving every second of Louixander’s iconically sensualized philosophy. One of the only ways Alexander had ever gotten Harry to listen and internalize his theories on life, existence, and how it should be perceived had been to whisper it to him in moments such as these—it had always worked, and Harry was shamelessly enjoying experiencing it again.

“In regards to you, my love, _you_ are this lover to me. My only one. When I gave my heart, mind, and body to you, I gave it to you alone. You are the one who makes love to my body, so therefore, you are the only one to see it. The only one who deserves to, because as well as it is for I, it’s a benefit to you in return. It’s of use to you, just as you are of use to me. We happen to please each other monogamously, and we do so in our own time, away from prying eyes, and that is how it has always been. Because I made it so all those years ago. Because I would not share you—not with _anyone_ —and I never will. You are mine and mine alone, and I grant the same ownership of myself to you... Do you feel fucking _special_ yet?” he finished with a light growl, yanking Harry in by the hair as per usual and connecting their lips, both immortals moaning into the kiss and getting excited because their living selves could still do something conclusive about their arousal.

Harry pulled away first and snagged Louis’ earlobe in his teeth, guiding the King’s wrists away from the wall and back to his hips, where Louis then wrapped the sheet closed. “Then allow me to demonstrate these benefits you speak of,” Harry bade, pulling Louis along the hall and into the mirror room, opening the hatch of the trap door and walking him down the spiral stairs that led to their old room.

“We don't have time for sex,” Louis said once they'd reached the floor, neither lighting any candles because they could see each other plainly the way they were.

Regardless, Harry did it anyway to set the mood, snatching the sheet from Louis’ body and easing him down onto the unmade bed. “There are other benefits,” he purred, settling down between Louis’ legs and licking around the uppermost part of his inner thigh.

Louis moaned and took the back of his left knee in his hand, lifting the leg up and away to give Harry all the room he'd need. Harry placed open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive patch of skin and let his other hand wander over Louis’ stomach, the King falling back and arching his back in anticipation. “You did this when I was human,” he noted, recalling the time he'd been lain in this very bed while Harry bit into the same upper thigh.

“I know. I'm going over it,” Harry replied, promptly extending his fangs and piercing through the old bite marks, plunging Louis into the state of bliss they were both so helplessly addicted to. He groaned low in his throat when Louis shook with pleasure, his hands groping harder, his drinking growing in vigor.

Louis smiled with instinctively extended fangs, his eyes closed as white stars shot behind their lids. The bite hummed against and vibrated its location, trinkles of natural, vampiric opium spreading out from the epicenter of the fangs and coursing down his leg and up his left side, ultimately covering every nerve-ending in his whole body.

To save on time, a thing which they unfortunately had a limited amount of, Harry pulled his fangs back into his gums, holding a hand under the puncture wounds to collect the droplets of escaped blood. He gathered a good amount onto his middle and ring fingers of his right hand, and now had the opportunity to do something with Louis’ adamant erection.

His tongue licked up Louis’ shaft and the King jolted in shock, having expected their activities to be done after the bite. “What are you doing?” he chuckled, hard-pressed to refuse such a wonderful sensation.

“Benefiting you,” Harry replied obviously, closing his lips around Louis’ head and dragging them down his length until he nosed the fine hairs of Louis’ pubic bone.

Louis sucked in a breath through his teeth and let out a string of happy moans, a hand automatically dropping onto Harry’s curly brown locks and taking a gentle fist of it.

Harry bobbed his head up and down Louis’ cock, guiding his slicked fingers to Louis’ vying hole to enact his third offense, finding little resistance as he pushed through his welcoming entrance.

“Zeus in Olympus!” Louis cried, gripping his other knee and forcing his legs up and out of the way for Harry’s sake...and his own. Harry curled his fingers upward and multitasked pumping them in and out as he circled Louis’ prostate, and the King nearly lost his mind. “Right there, Harry. You've got it—just like that,” he rasped, wondering why fellatio had ever been looked down upon in Greece and Macedon. Uppity bitches didn't know a good thing when they had it.

Harry moved his fingers, neck, and tongue with unparalleled expertise, trained by centuries of sex with Alexander to know exactly what he liked and how he liked it. He followed the progression of Louis’ climax like he was feeling it himself, omnisciently aware of the time it would take to reach completion.

He sped things up and slowed things down with practiced ease, playing Louis’ body like an instrument as it silently called out for him and told him what to do. It wasn't long until Louis held his breath, and that meant Harry had eight seconds before he would come. He counted to seven in his head as Louis’ every muscle tensed, replacing his mouth with his free hand a moment before Louis released, stroking him through it and gently rubbing his pulsing prostate at the same time.

“ _Gods_!” Louis gasped, his breath coming back loudly once he'd flown off the edge, shivering and giggling like a drunken fool in the snow. “You are none other than Eros himself, my carnal deity. You are a God on land,” he babbled in a haze of chemical perfection, laughing to the ceiling as Harry wiped his stomach for him.

“I try,” Harry snorted, discarding the rag he'd acquired and dropping down at Louis’ side, reeling him into his arms and holding on tightly.

“You succeed, my beautiful temptress. Every single time,” Louis praised contentedly, valiantly sitting up and taking the lounging Roman right with him. “ _Now_ we can leave,” he announced, fishing around for any clothing he'd left behind. He didn't immediately see anything but he followed his nose and came across an old pair of sweatpants he'd brought over, pulling them up his weakened legs after a stolen pair of silk shorts a la Harry.

Harry dressed himself as well, going for the most casual look he could with dark blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He wrangled his long hair up into a high ponytail and let the usual strands hang down, pulling it taught atop his skull and resting his hands on his hips when he was done.

“You are a feminine beauty, my dear,” Louixander whispered approvingly into his back, having been overcome with enchantment at the first sight of the hairstyle, unable to help striding up to him and capturing him in an embrace.

Harry cooed and looked over his shoulder, his updo swishing across Louis’ forehead and making them both laugh out loud. “Such is yours,” he reciprocated as he spun around in Louis’ hold, smoothing his hands down Louis’ waist, then _out over_ his hips, to stop at his thighs, indirectly saying that he had the curves of a shapely maiden.

“A set of crescents you would suffer to miss,” Louis accused seductively, gripping Harry’s wrists and running the Roman’s hands right back up the arches they'd descended.

“And _did_ I suffer,” Harry agreed, pulling Louis into him and dropping his forehead onto his shoulder. “Sometimes I think you were given the wrong genitals, Lou. Alexander too. The both of you should be able to bear children with these kind of hips,” he moaned, gripping the thick flesh in his hands and furrowing his eyebrows when Louis snorted in amusement.

“Children? Whatever are you babbling on about?” the King laughed, stepping away to scour the room for any lingering belongings while Harry did the same.

“You never think of yourself pregnant?” Harry asked, upending a box and rifling through the papers for anything important.

“Uh...not to my memory, no,” Louis replied, the whole subject doing a great job of capturing his intrigue.

“Oh...I think about it sometimes,” Harry confessed, keeping his focus on his envelopes because he realized he'd raked an untrodden pathway. “I think you'd be beautiful. I used to think about what our child would look like...how it would feel to be able to even _do_ something like that…” he trailed, chancing a look at Louis and surprisingly finding the fondest look on his face.

“You are something else, you know that?” Louis mused with a warm and kind smile, resuming his investigation of the room while he routinely shook his head over Harry’s charming antics.

He then found Mr. Snuffles in the corner of the bed where Harry must have moved it when they came down, and he lifted the fluffy bear up by the paw, holding it before his face and smiling as he mulled over its significance. “I think I'll bring you,” he told it, Harry waltzing over to him and patting the bear on the cottony head.

“It's nearly one o’clock!” they heard Harlock shout from the kitchen; not to be bossy but to be helpful.

“Shit, okay. We _really_ need to go now,” Louis laughed to the concurring Harry, giving one last sweep of the comforting room with his eyes before bounding up the stairs with his Roman in tow, sparing a thought on when he would see it again next. One can never know these things...he only hoped this time wouldn't turn out to be the last.

 

\---

 

“Do you want us to come in with you?” Niall asked, staring at the back of Louis’ head as the Elder glared out the window at his parents’ house.

Everyone was sort of thinking the same thing but Niall was the only one who had rights to ask, having been there for two years to console Louis after his Father’s cruelties. Louis remained silent and the seconds dragged on, Niall wondering if he should try to ask again when Louis finally responded.

“Thank you but no. I need only Harry,” Louis said, pushing himself off the couch and looking to his Roman.

“Of course, love,” Harry said as he grabbed Louis’ nearest hand, walking him out while he shot a quick, “We’ll be right back” over his shoulder. He pulled the lever to open the door and stepped down onto the outside pavement behind the tense Louis, holding him back once the door had been closed after them.

“What?” Louis asked, his body quivering with the need to _do_ something.

“What are you worried about? Your mind isn’t settled; you’re without clear direction here,” Harry noted empathetically, needing to get into his love’s mind to decide what he himself would need to do in this situation.

Louis sighed in frustration and ran his free hand through his hair, combing his fingers down the length of it and moving it all over to one shoulder, though most of it just swung back around afterward. “I know what I want. Problem is I can only guess how my Mother will react. I’d like this to go as smoothly as possible, and I’d much rather have her come with us because she wants to, not because I kidnap her and throw her into a bus,” he admitted, shaking himself of his inner turmoil and stalking toward the house anyway. It didn’t matter how his Mother would react—he was getting her out of here.

Harry chose not to respond because Louis clearly made up his mind, but it was helpful to know what was bothering him. He crossed the road with his fuming King and gave him sidelong glances, noticing his fists had clenched and his eyebrows had been set into a hard and stressed line. Even still he resisted the urge to console him, knowing that there would be no escape for Louis’ troubles until a resolution had been won. Only thing that would help is getting this over with.

Louis stomped down the hardened gravel walkway en route to the front door of his ghastly childhood home; the door that had been slammed so many times in its life he didn’t understand how it had never snapped off its hinges. Due to his vampiric hearing, he’d known that Troy was awake and watching TV in the living room while he munched on what sounded like potato chips, and he knew his Mother was making some kind of clinking noise in the room by the telephone; he guessed it was knitting. He didn’t know why they were both up so late but he accepted it for the helpful occurrence that it was.  

He hiked his knee up and smashed the sole of his foot against the door, breaking it open with a startling bang to channel the notorious Tomlinson spirit, waltzing into the living room to see both Stacey and Troy holding their hands over their chests as they fought against succumbing to heart attacks. Unfortunately his Father didn’t have one.

“Louis!” Stacey cried in glee, stopping short when she got a good look at him and his beautiful companion. Something was extremely different with her son but she didn’t know what…

“What the _fuck_ are _you_ doing here? Didn’t I tell your sorry ass to never come back? And you broke my damn door!” Troy roared, chucking his chip bag over the arm of the loveseat and straining to stand against the opposing weight of his beer belly, amusingly replicating the image of a heavily pregnant woman trying to do the same thing, only she had a perfectly good excuse; the beefy and overweight Troy Tomlinson did not—what a sad _sad_ excuse for a human.

“Harry, go help my Mother pack a bag,” Louis said to his Roman, who immediately rushed over and placed a comforting hand on Stacey’s back. “I’m getting you out of here. Right now. Will you come?” he asked the frantic and scarily thin woman, begging her wide and shifty eyes to obey him with his own.

“Y-yes,” she said meekly, her gaze jumping to Troy when he finally got out of the chair and began to stumble over.

“Oh no you don’t,” Louis growled, dashing forward and grabbing his drunk Father by the thick neck, shoving him backward and slamming him against the patch of wall that cornered the hallway, picture frames shattering behind Troy’s back as the overhead lights flickered from the impact. “Go!” he snapped at Harry, holding his quickly sobering Father at bay while his Roman hurried to comply with his command.

Louis met his fretful Mother’s eyes as they passed by, and the orbs _did_ have hefty amounts of fear and panic in them, but there was an undertone to them that Louis could only see because he was her son—pride. He smirked at her in response and trained a glare back on Troy, the hatred in his Father’s character standing no chance against the inferno within his own.

“What do you think you’re doing, you faggot?” Troy seethed, his voice hoarse from the pressure around his larynx. “I’m your Father! Get your hands off me!” he snapped, both hands wrung tight around Louis’ wrist as he flexed his arm muscles to wrench it away from his throat, but surprisingly, no amount of aching effort even slightly dislodged Louis’ grip or threw off his stance... Something wasn’t right here.

“You,” Louis began in a deep and primal snarl, stepping closer to Troy while he extended and bared his fangs for dramatic effect, exuding an aura of power and supremacy that had Troy whimpering like an abandoned puppy in a shelter. “You are not _worthy_ to be a Greek!” he hissed, beyond furious—and highly offended—that this is what his esteemed and superlative bloodline had come to.

“Please, don’t—don’t hurt me, Louis,” Troy sniveled, unable to look away from the daunting and nerve-racking sight of Louis’ teeth. They weren’t natural. Weren’t even human. “You wouldn’t hurt your old man,” he said gently, taking the route of appeasement because the pure joy in Louis’ face was a large point for concern.

“Oh, I wouldn’t?” Louis chuckled darkly, pushing his claws into Troy’s flesh, much like he had with the other Troy’s neck. “I had my first Father killed. What makes you any different? You’re both trash,” he bit, shaking his head in disbelief that this travesty was a product of his genealogy. “You shame your blood. You tarnish the very nature of your heritage—you are a _stain_ upon my legacy!” he roared, his free hand forming a fist at his side and immediately darting up to obliterate the man’s face.

Troy screeched in pain as blood spewed out his nose, spitting a fair amount from his mouth as well. He turned his face back to stare at his uncommonly strong son, his terrified eyes falling once more to the animalistic fangs that protruded from his gums. “W-what are y-you?” he stuttered, feeling sick to his stomach when Louis grinned like the devil himself, the unnerving breathy laughter he received from the boy making him break out in a sweat.

“Louis, we’re ready,” Harry said, almost startling Louis because he’d been so fixated on his Father that he hadn’t noticed Harry returning with his Mother at his side, a duffle bag of her stuff thrown over his shoulder.

“Hold him,” Louis said, letting go of Troy’s neck as Harry immediately took over the duty, slamming him back with an even stronger force than Louis had used, lifting him off the floor and smirking when the man choked and flailed to be released.

Stacey yelped and clutched at the top of her turtleneck sweater, a mirror image of every other human having their first encounter with the raw power of immortals. Louis instantly took her into his arms, smoothing his hands down her back and pulling back to peer into her eyes. “Mom, I'm gonna take you someplace safe. You'll never have to come back here again, okay?” he said, leaning over to take the duffle back off Harry’s free shoulder.

“O-okay, baby,” she sobbed in gratitude, sparing one last glance at her useless and horrendous husband and cringing away when he momentarily met her eyes.

Louis wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began to lead her to the front door, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as she cried out her overwhelming emotions.

“Louis, what do I do with him?” Harry asked after setting the man back on the carpet, still holding his neck against the wall in case he tried to run.

Louis looked over his shoulder at the pair, his eyes boring into his Father’s and ensuring the last look he gave the man was one of pure malice. “Kill him,” he said tonelessly, turning away from the scene and hurrying his and Stacey’s pace when the woman tensed in alarm.

“Wha—”

“Don't look back, Mom. Don't ever look back. Only forward, okay? Let’s go,” he urged, finally getting her through the opened door and pointlessly pulling it closed even though it would not click after his break-in.

Once outside, Stacey’s sobs wracked her whole body, her trembles almost too plenty to walk. Louis kept a firm hand around her waist and helped her to the bus, shushing her cries as best he could.

“Is he really gonna kill him?” she squeaked, refusing to enter the bus until she got an answer.

Louis’ eyes hardened in frustration, his patience stretched thin as he struggled to contain the snappish reply on the tip of his tongue. “Yes,” he confirmed bluntly, his tone lacking any possible shred of emotion or sympathy.

Stacey’s expression underwent a rapid change of theme, starting with dismay, breezing past all the different looks of sadness, and ending on...what Louis would almost swear was determination.

“Good,” she bit, whirling around and stomping up the steps the bus, gasping when it wasn't empty like she'd previously assumed.

Louis had nearly cackled at his Mother’s reaction but he forced it back down, following her inside and picking up on the awkward staring contest she was having with everyone. “Oh, guys this my Mother, Stacey,” he introduced, holding her close to him as he pointed at each of his friends for her. “Momma, this is Harlock, and that's his lover, Jenner; this is Martin and his dear Tanner; that's Zayn over there, and _this_ —” he emphasized, beckoning Niall over to them, “—this is Niall, I know you've heard that name before.”

“Niall! Oh, it's a pleasure,” she said, forcing herself to focus on the pleasantries and not her soon to be ex and dead husband across the street. “I'm sorry I never met you all these years, but I was always happy to know Louis had such a good friend,” she said through another wave of tears, throwing her arms around the blonde when he offered.

“That's okay, Stacey, I knew what was going on. I tried to look out for him the best I could,” he said, smiling at Louis over his Mother’s shoulder.

“Well you did a good job,” Stacey choked as she backed away, her hysteria climbing back to its boiling point as she thought about all the times Niall was probably there for him when she couldn't be. Her eyes swept around the bus and its occupants, ultimately landing on the black curtains that covered the windows toward her house, and she felt herself losing grip on gravity as he stumbled over to the side.

Louis thrust his arms out and caught her before she could fall, lowering her down on the couch and kneeling in front of her, taking her face in his hands and trapping her in his low-key lure. “Stacey,” he said sternly, winning her automatic attention and stopping the flourishing episode of hyperventilation in its tracks. “Relax. You're safe now, and it's all over. Breathe. Accept your reality,” he cooed, her influenced behavior smoothing the crease lines on her forehead. “Now as soon as we get everyone here, we’re gonna go far away, okay? Just waiting on Harry…”

“Harry?” she asked in confusion, quickly remembering Louis calling the boy in the house by that name, and by default piecing together that ‘Harry’ was in there killing Troy, if she really had heard that right.

At that moment, Harry hopped up the steps with a sour look on his face and closed the bus door, nodding to Martin to start the vehicle so they could get the hell out of there. The butler complied with haste and crawled down the road, Jenner taking up the duty of directing him to his and Harlock’s house.

When Louis looked over at his Roman, he accidentally released his Mother from his small amount of lure, and she followed his gaze to Harry, inhaling a lengthy gasp and pointing a shaking finger at the boy with the ponytail.

“You...you killed my husband,” she stated, Harry’s eyes widening as he was put under the spotlight, at a complete loss on how to respond to such a blunt truth.

“...Yeah,” he settled on, making frantic eye contact with Louis for any kind of guidance, who unfortunately looked just as stunned as he was.  

“Are you _sure_?” Stacey pressed, wringing her hands together as she mulled over all the harrowing possibilities of Troy coming back and doing gruesome things to her because she’d let him get attacked.

“I’m...I’m pretty sure, yeah,” Harry replied, preparing himself for a wide variety of reactions because the woman was surprisingly hard to read.

“He’s _dead_?” she reiterated, not yet confident with his response. She needed this validated beyond shadow of a doubt, and her serious tone had begged that of him without her needing to explain herself.

“Very much so, yes…” Harry assured carefully, every creature in the bus dead silent and nervous as all fuck as they awaited her ultimate opinion on the matter. The possibilities were endless and ambiguous, and they were desperate to find out which it would be.

Stacey sighed loudly and fell back into the couch, looking like she’d just tuned the settings of her body to autopilot, her hands flat against the seat with her elbows bent toward her body, staring at the carpet for a precariously long time before finally looking up and meeting Harry’s eyes. “...Thank you,” she said, Harry’s brows jumping into his hairline as he scrambled for a proper response.

“Uh—yeah, any...anytime? No, uh...you’re welcome…?” he stammered, shrugging his shoulders in defense when Louis rubbed at his forehead like he ‘should have done better’ or some other rude expectation.

“I realize that must sound weird,” Stacey admitted softly, losing herself in a burst of laughter—it was the nerves. “I’m...I think I need to adjust. I’m not okay yet, but...I hated that man. It never mattered what happened to me, but Louis—” she said, looking to her son on the floor and crying as she ran a hand through his hair, “—Troy hit my beautiful baby boy. He abused him for years, and that...that is unforgivable,” she snarled with an immense fire in her voice that surprised everyone but Harry.

“Anyone who lays a finger on our Louis is already damned,” Harry seconded, finally walking all the way into the bus and stopping just before Louis and his Mother. “Allow me to correct my earlier hesitation...I killed the fuck out of your husband,” he rectified, smiling proudly when Stacey cried tears of obvious elation.

She reached out for the boy’s hand and held it tight with both of hers, bringing it to her forehead and offhandedly wondering why it felt like an ice cube. “‘Our’ Louis?” she then asked, backtracking enough to remember that little quirk in his words.

Harry squeezed her hands and let his reply come in the form of directing a fond and infatuated look at her son, Stacey picking it up immediately when she looked between both of their dreamily gazing faces. “This is him,” she breathed in glee, sizing him up with a whole new set of eyes. “He’s the one.”

“Yes, this is the lover,” Louis confirmed with a happy grin, laughing when Stacey jumped up and latched herself onto said lover.

“Why didn’t you _say_ so?” she scolded to the both of them, yipping when Harry wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the floor before setting her down.

“We kinda had other things to take care of,” Louis reasoned, hoping he wouldn’t need to keep reminding her of what had just happened.

“Right, right. But look at him,” she lilted, Louis over the moon to see his Mother so happy and carefree; something he had not seen since he was the ripe human age of eleven.

“I could say the same to you, dear. Now I know where Louis gets it,” Harry complimented, disregarding the fact that Louis had the exact same face and body that he’d had as Alexander—this woman had still managed to create that idolized beauty, and that was impressive.

“Oh stop,” she said batting at his thigh and drying her eyes with her sleeve, taking a many number of long overdue deep breaths and leaning her head back on the couch. “So...where are we going?” she asked, smiling at the rest of their company and bouncing in excitement over the prospect of a road trip.

“Lockhart,” Louis responded, holding up a hand before she could say one more word; there was something quite relevant to disclose first. “Mom...my dear, wonderful Mother, there is something I need to tell you. About me. ‘Bout us. Where you’re going...well you’ll need to know and get used to what I’m about to tell you, and you gotta adjust fast or it’ll only stress you out more,” he said warily, Harry’s hand resting on his shoulder for physical and moral support.

Stacey looked between the couple and then to everyone individually, each boy having the same sort of uncomfortable, pensive expression on their faces. She knew whatever this was would probably be a decently big deal, or the boys wouldn’t be acting so suspicious, but after the life-changing ordeal she’d just experienced, she figured she could probably take it. “Alright, Loubear...what is it?”

 

\---

 

“I can't believe this,” Stacey said for the fifteenth time, rubbing at her eyes and pinching her cheek, _again_ , to make sure she was awake.

Louis shrugged against Harry’s front, the two of them lounged diagonally against the armrest break on the opposite couch of the stunned woman, the King playing with Harry’s rings on the hand that was draped over him and rested in the center of his chest. “Do you need to see our fangs again?” he asked, backing off when his Mother shot him a vicious glare.

“No, I do _not_ need to—hang on. How long ago did this happen?” she asked, preparing to configure the math in her unsystematic brain; figure out how mad she should be that Louis had withheld something so important.

“I don't even remember. Harry, when did you turn me?” he asked, tilting his head back to catch Harry’s emerald eyes.

“Louis, that was last night,” Harry chuckled, patting Louis on the head when he shot him an incredulous look.

“Oh, what? Huh...far out...I don't know why but it _feels_ like I've been this way for a long time,” he teased with a weighted smirk, the only one left out of the loop being his Mother, who wasn't explicitly told just who her son is.

“You don't die?” Stacey repeated, her mind spinning like a centrifuge to finally wrap around the entire concept of immortality.

“We die,” Harry corrected, refusing to extensively think about vampire death because that would inevitably lead to thinking about losing Alexander and he was already in his arms. “But not from natural causes. We don't age.”

“No, we just get more and more bitter,” Harlock snorted, actually earning an amused laugh from the staggered woman.

“So why are you telling me all this?” Stacey asked, happy (if that's the word) to know but unsure of why it was a necessary detail.

“I have a sort of community house for both humans and vampires. Louis requested I take you there, and I am happy to. It is a place where everyone belongs and you will make a lot of friends who can help you adjust because they've all been right where you are at some point. You needed to know because if you accept our plan, then you'd find out regardless, and this was easier. Better to give you a heads-up,” Harlock informed, letting her internalize the knowledge and make her decision.

“Okay,” she said after only a short period of consideration. She had no other option readily available, and if her son was telling her she would be safe, after saving her from that house, then she would trust him.

“Good, I think you'll like it there. You won't ever experience any pressure to leave or stay, you may do whatever you like. Stay for a week, month, years, forever, it's up to you,” Harlock said with a kind smile, Stacey’s eyes sparkling from all the selfless acceptance.

“Thank you. All of you. I don't even know where to start,” she said, looking through two identical films of saltwater at her wonderful son and his devoted boyfriend, discarding any fear she initially had about them being strange, non-aging, inhuman, sharp-toothed creatures of the night.

“Just start by forgiving yourself for everything that happened with Troy. Learn to love yourself, and expect more for yourself. Never settle again,” Louis said seriously, breaking through the watery film of her eyes as they spilled over and cascaded down her soaked cheeks.

“Okay, Louis,” she said as she tried to steady the shakiness of her voice, giving up when Louis walked over and hugged her. He felt like a big block of ice, and he might be a different boy than the one she raised, but this was still her son, and no supernatural identity or never-ending lifespan would ever change that. “I promise.”

 

\---

 

“Alright, we’re here,” Jenner announced, the bus jumping and shaking as it ascended the uneven driveway up to Harlock’s house.

Stacey grinned in excitement to see her new home, and Louis gave her a big smile in return, all occupants straightening up their stuff and putting their shoes back on. “You’re gonna love it here, Momma,” Louis said, his face lighting up as he remembered a very important detail. He held up a finger and walked gracefully to the back of the bus in spite of how bumpy it was, opening one of his bags and pulling out Mr. Snuffles to present to his Mom.

“Is that—” she whimpered, her hand closing around the bear’s foot while she looked up at her son.

“He should stay with you. Keep him safe until I get back,” he said, letting go of the animal when she took it with both hands. He’d explained to her that they wouldn’t be staying with her because they had “things to do,” and though she was curious, Louis hadn’t had the heart to tell her that he was in danger. She saw through him even now, and Louis knew that she was aware she wasn’t getting the full story, but she’d grudgingly accepted it, and that was that.

The bus came to a screechy stop and Harry threw Stacey’s bag over his shoulder, Louis helping the woman up and holding her around the waist. They all walked out of the vehicle and Harlock sighed happily to see his beautiful mansion intact, glad that Erakus and The General had been able to keep it together in his absence. “Right this way,” he said to his group, each traveler shuffling across the stone slabbed pathway to reach the heavy black front doors. Harlock opened it for them and Louis filed in with his mom, walking into that familiar entry room with its large checkerboard-tiled floors and plain walls.

“Welcome back, you guy— _oh_ _holy shit_!” Erakus gasped when he finally caught sight and scent of Louis, falling down hard onto one ripped-jean knee and crossing a fist over his heart.

Marley, in tight black pants and a red-checkered lumberjack flannel appeared from the hallway and rushed forward to copy Erakus, holding back every jab he had over them getting his Volkswagen confiscated because he was suddenly in the presence of the eldest Elder he’d ever laid eyes on.

“ _Rise_ , peasants,” Louis drawled sarcastically, sharing amused looks with his group who had now all made it inside and closed the front doors.

Erakus and Marley rose as one and the Sparrow narrowed his eyes, looking Louis up and down and trying to reconcile the dominant status from his human self. “Louis, you’re...you’re an _Elder_. You always smelled a bit old, but...this is…” he breathed, his eyes wide as Marley pushed his straight, shoulder-length and dirty-blonde hair back on his head with an astounded expression on his face.

“That I am, how kind of you to notice,” Louis responded pleasantly, giving the gawking vampires their time to internalize the information.

“What’s an Elder?” Stacey asked from under Louis’ arm, getting a short shake of his head in return.

“How fucking old _are you_? When were you even _born_?” Marley asked in his thick Australian accent, letting go of his hair and ignoring when it fell back into his face.

“Officially? 1955… Technically? 356 b.c.,” Louis said, his Mother physically removing his arm from around her shoulders and piercing him with a dumbfounded look.

“ _Wicked_ ,” Marley breathed, Erakus sulking because he couldn’t act all high and mighty around Louis anymore.

“What did you say?!” Stacey demanded when she’d gotten in his face, skewering him with hard eyes for an explanation.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Louis brushed aside, forcing her back around and quieting her unasked barrage of questions he didn’t currently have the time to answer.

“Louis?” an unsure voice asked, the King’s eyes searching over his Mother’s head for the owner of the female voice.

“Missy!” he said politely, beckoning her over and watching her walk with knobby knees. “How good it is to see you. Missy, this is my Mother, Stacey. She’s gonna be living here now, and I would like it if you could show her around a bit. I think you two would be great friends,” he said, the girl with light blonde french braids and big glasses nodding furiously as she took Stacey’s hand.

“Of course I’ll show you around. There’s an empty room actually right across from mine. We could move her in there, right Harlock?” she asked, her eyes flicking over to the master of the house, accidentally interrupting a lengthy kiss with the exhausted Jenner.

As they broke apart so Harlock could respond, another voice came rolling through the hallway, belonging to an immortal woman similar to the age appearance of Stacey, with a black mullet style of hair and masculine clothes topped with gorgeous facial features and a dazzling smile. “I can show her around too,” she lilted, Harlock’s one eye narrowing in suspicion as she approached.

“Jet,” he warned sternly, Louis getting the impression this was a common thing for the vampire woman.

She paid Harlock no mind and walked up to Louis, bending down in a kneel to show her respect and then standing to acknowledge Stacey, taking her hand and bringing it to her lips. “What? How can I be expected to help myself around such a _beautiful_ woman?” she asked, placing a kiss to Stacey’s hand and looking up at her with a blatantly flirtatious gaze.

To everyone’s surprise, and Louis’ slight discomfort, Stacey actually _giggled_ , her cheeks turning a bright rosy red as she stammered over her own name.

“Oh Zeus in Olympus...” Louis muttered in unprecedented astonishment, stepping away from his smitten Mother and tiredly rubbing at his temples.

“Can’t wait to see how _that_ plays out,” Zayn said under his breath, eliciting a sharp elbow jab from both Louis and Harry.

“Mom, before you run off into the moonlit horizon, give me a hug. We’ve gotta get goin’,” Louis said, the woman smashing into his front in an instant as he mouthed very plainly ‘Take care of her’ to the tenacious and resolute immortal named Jet, who nodded her head respectfully. In any other _normal_ circumstance, he probably would have been a lot more defensive about someone so inappropriately lusting after his Mother, but honestly, after all the shit she went through, she could use the love and appreciation right now.

“When will I see you again?” she whined, tightening her hand on Mr. Snuffles’ paw behind Louis’ back.

“I don’t know, Mom. I wish I did. I love you,” Louis replied, his forehead on her shoulder as he took in her scent for memory. She smelled almost exactly the same to him as an immortal as she did when he was a human. Smelled like Stacey—his Mother.

“I love you too, my sweet boy. I love you so much. Thank you for everything,” she cried, the two forcing themselves to break up because they knew each other too well, and were well aware that if nobody took a stand and pulled away first, neither of them would, and they’d have to be externally yanked apart.

“Go with Jet and Missy now, okay? I have things I need to talk about,” he said vaguely, her maternal nature setting off warning bells and telling her she needed to stay, but one look at the enamouring Jet, and she changed her mind.

Harry handed Stacey’s bag of things to Jet, and Stacey went around the group to hug every person from the bus, giving them all typical cheek kisses and head pats. “Thank you all for everything you did,” she said to the smiling monsters, clutching at the front of her sweater and controlling her tears. “Bye, sweetie! See you real soon!” she added hopefully to Louis alone, waving and blowing kisses and she walked backward between Missy and Jet until she had to turn, disappearing around the corner and down the hall.

“What did you need to talk about? We should get back on the road soon if we’re gonna make any progress before needing to pull over or have Jenner daylight me,” Harlock said, prepared to walk back out to the bus when Louis stopped him.

“Wait,” Louis said, the eyepatch vampire and his loyal warlock cocking their heads to the side as if the move was planned between them. “This is goodbye for us,” he said, gesturing to the magical couple in case that was somehow unclear.

“What?” Harlock asked, Jenner’s eyebrows furrowing as well as they took in what that meant.

“No, Louis, you need us! You need the daylight on your side, I don’t want you to—”

“Jenner, Jenner,” Louis soothed, stepping forward and taking Jenner’s orange-dotted face in his hands, thumbing his cheekbones and he beamed at the superhuman. “You’ve been amazing and incredibly helpful, but New York is too dangerous for you. You’re still a human, regardless of your special abilities, and I’m not going into the unknown when I could lose you. When Harlock could lose you. We only want you to stay safe, and with my Mother here now, I want you two to look after her,” he said, noticing Harlock visibly held in a sigh of relief. Happy as he was to help, he cared first and foremost for Jenner’s health and safety.

“But...Okay...I take full responsibility for your Mom, even if Jet fights me on it,” Jenner laughed, removing Louis’ hands from his face and holding them down at their sides. “ _Please_ be careful, Louis. Give Auron hell...I’ll—I’ll really miss you guys!” he suddenly wailed, throwing his arms around Louis and sobbing when the entire group enveloped them in a group hug.

“We’ll be back, Jen. My Mom lives here now, that’s full-coverage insurance to see me again. What happened to that mysterious and elusive Jenner I first met? When you tried so hard to impress and intimidate me?” Louis chuckled, careful not to actually crush the human as they were stuck in the middle of immortal bodies from every angle.

“He died when I realized you’re groovier than I’ll ever be,” Jenner giggled, placing a big kiss on Louis’ cheek and sighing when the group hug dispersed.

“Nonsense,” Louis said quietly, bopping Jenner’s nose and turning to Harlock to give his final request. “There is something you could give me, though,” he said, eyeing Erakus and Marley with a scrutinizing stare.

“Anything, Louis,” Harlock said, following Louis’ eyes and piecing it together.

“Them,” Louis confirmed, pointing two fingers at the startled vampires he’d chosen.

“Us?” Erakus squeaked, getting over the shock and letting his determination take over.

“Yeah,” Louis said to him, turning to Harlock to make his case even though he didn’t particularly think he’d be refused either way. “I’d like to take them with us to make up for the loss of you two. We need the numbers. I know Erakus is willing, I can see it on his face, and Marley doesn’t have anything better to do,” he said, the Australian vampire spluttering and scoffing at the insinuation.

“How the fuck would you know? You don’t even know me,” he opposed, his shoulders tensing in indignation.

Louis huffed and patiently crossed his arms, turning and giving the ruffled Aussie his full and undivided attention, only slightly satisfied that he cringed from the direct eye contact. “Do you have anything better to do?” he asked pointedly.

“Of course not! When do you we leave?” Marley responded eagerly, the whole group breaking out in laughter at his antics.

When Louis was able to stop snickering, he dropped the wrist he’d covered his mouth with and straightened up, strutting up to the new addition of their haunted and cursed group, and dropping a hand on his flanneled shoulder. “Now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Stacey and what is essentially Joan Jett!!! Ayeeeeeee!!!! I had to put Joan Jett in, even for a boy-obsessed boy like me, she's a FOX.  
> If you guys want to see the cast and crew of my Love Endless babes, feel free to check out my moodboards on tumblr. I know that sometimes you have your own imagination and you wanna stick with it, and I'm totally with you. But in case you're curious, here's the post: http://wubwubnparmaham.tumblr.com/post/158875103773/love-endless-the-sequel  
> To help, it has Harry in top left corner of first one, Auron in bottom right, plus an amazing multicoloured eye Louis pic that was made by the lovely Kris (@Hazstylestrash) for me, and then second we haaaave Niall, Erakus, Zayn, Jenner, the Volkswagen lol, Harlock (eyepatch done by Kris as well), Tanner, Marley, Martin. And then bottom pic has Liam, someone you'll meet later, and Azazel at the very bottom middle. Go look if you want to, I'm just giving you le knowledge.


	21. Watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drags myself into this box* hi hello. sorry i suck. haven't been home, mostly wrote this one on my phone fjioekfdsfw. will be back into the swing of things soon. getting pretty excited to write the end and shit, tho i've got a bit to go. i'm just looking forward to it. okay without further ado, here's an exceptionally late chapter for you. explains some things...about things...you'll see.

“Erakus, I thought you were straight,” Louis said, referencing the incident at the Sparrow house on the night of the last attack when he’d watched Erakus stumble out of his room haphazardly-clothed with a human girl bleeding from the neck as she tiptoed behind him.

He brings this up because he'd been shamelessly watching Erakus and Marley make out in the corner of the bus for about twenty minutes now (the pair were far too engrossed in each other to notice), and the act exhibited _way_ more passion than it would if it were happening out of pure boredom. The Sparrow immortal was straddling Marley’s hips and grinding against him like he was riding a horse, and their hungry hands roughly wandered over and groped at every part of their bodies. Is _no one_ in Louis’ life straight? What a happy coincidence this is…

“I am straight,” Erakus pledged, his teased and messy black quiff bouncing as he whipped around to stare Louis down, while Marley attacked his exposed neck in kisses and fangless bites. “Have you _seen_ this boy?” he reasoned with a moan, Marley pulling off and meeting Louis’ eyes so he could assess him if he wanted to.

And Louis did. His eyes swept over the board straight, shiny and hydrated hair of his head, the thick and defined eyebrows that arched over dark eyes that always looked angry and broody no matter how happy he was; the full lips and cut jawbone, the protruding bones and joints of his body, the flamingo length of his sculpted legs, and yeah Louis could admit—Marley was a looker. But not enough of one to turn a straight boy gay for him.

“Well he’s certainly your type,” Louis mumbled to Erakus, taking note of the identical state of their tattered black jeans, the ankle-wrapped lacing of their boots, the band t-shirts, and the general air of bad-boy that they constantly carried around like weapons.

“When are we getting blood?” Marley whined, leaning forward and sliding his hands down to cup Erakus’s arse, the Sparrow squeaking and pressing himself closer. “I want to fuck the moonlight out of this one.”

“Marley, you drive me crazy,” Erakus chuckled suggestively, taking his time to feel around Marley’s hair and face with hungry fingertips as they waited for a reponse.

“I don’t know. Soon,” Louis sighed, wondering what their next destination would even be. They had around two hours left of moonlight before the dreaded sun, and they were only halfway through the thick southern rump of Idaho, en route to Utah to cut through the corner of it—fuck these predator-infested mountains—and ride across Wyoming on their great journey east.

“Should we be looking for a motel?” Zayn asked, having taken up the duty of being the driver while Niall intermittently dozed off on his lap.

“Fuck that, make it a hotel,” Harry griped, recalling the dingy establishment of which they'd resorted to last time, and finding himself still mad over sleeping past their time limit in the parking lot. In light of that event, apparently all motels were officially out of the question.

“Okay, _ho_ tel,” Zayn rectified, his tone expressing that he was still waiting for an answer. “Niall, you know what to do,” he said to his blonde, tapping on the maps that sat stacked atop the dashboard.

Niall rubbed his eyes and hopped off Zayn’s lap to acquire map room, taking the papers he’d come to navigate like he’d written them himself, and sticking his nose into the fold of the contents, thankfully not needing a distracting flashlight to read it now. “Where are we?” he croaked, rolling his head on his shoulders because he was used to having kinks...he did not.

“We’re in Burley,” Zayn informed.

Niall hummed and looked through the details of southern Idaho’s attractions, quickly finding Burley and whooping in victory. “Alright, well...there’s a Best Western on 800 N St.,” he said, glancing at Harry to see if his majesty ‘approved’ of this choice.

“Sounds good then,” Zayn said, one-handedly clapping to receive the maps. “Gimme the normal map, just in case the directions don’t make sense,” he said, taking the offered object and laying it in his lap for reference.

Louis and Harry zoned out at that point, focusing on each other while they tried to ignore both Niall and Zayn’s routine reading of directions from the I-84 freeway to the hotel they’d picked, and the moans from Erakus and Marley in the back. Martin and Tanner had been particularly quiet this entire drive, and though Louis was enjoying the cuddle time with his Roman, that fact kept hanging on his mind like a leech. “Martin?” he asked, twisting around to catch sight of them on the same couch, a mere ways down.

“Yeah…” Martin responded, Tanner wrapped up in his arms with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands desperately fisting Martin’s wrinkled shirt, obviously in some subtle form of distress.

“Zeus, what’s going on with him?” Louis suddenly cried, the other occupants taking notice and staring at the butler couple. He kind of realized what would be the issue after he’d questioned it but Martin answered him anyway.

“He’s not doing too good without blood,” Martin lamented, rubbing at Tanner’s back and offering every small comfort he could. “His prime urge is really strong too,” he added, his lips pursing with frustration because there was nothing he could do.

Harry and Louis walked over to join in the consolations while they silently asked everyone else to go back to their business with quick, pointed glances. It worked and they were given a false sense of privacy, but even that was better than unblinking stares.

“Tanner,” Louis said softly as he knelt down beside the couch, coercing the baby vampire to come out of his hiding spot burrowed in Martin’s chest.

“Yeah,” the frizzy-haired and troubled boy responded, his expression reminding Louis so very much of his first few days of immortality; only _he’d_ been able to release his impulses. After Bagoas had died, he’d gone a bit off the rails with his maker, and Tanner hadn’t been able to do anything that would sate his desperation yet.

“What happened to you beating Niall?” Louis chuckled, referring to the panic attack Niall had suffered upon turning that Tanner had blazed through with no issue. For Niall to be fine now even after coming alive and dying again, and Tanner to have taken his spot of weakest-fresh-turned was rather ironic.

“I don’t know...I really need to—to—”

“To kill, I know,” Louis said so he wouldn’t have to, reaching out and running his knuckles across Tanner’s cheek. “Can you wait until we get to the hotel? Maybe Martin can take you out somewhere?” he suggested, looking up at Martin and silently asking him to agree.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Martin said, consequently cheering Tanner up so much that he sat upright and clapped his hands together. The butler would have made a promise like that earlier but he hadn’t known if Louis would approve or not.

“Just make it _far away_ from the hotel, would you? We don’t need to be surrounded by yellow caution tape with cops covering every square inch of the building. And you are only allowed _one kill_ , do you hear me? One,” Louis stressed, eliciting two sharp nods from both the butler and his fiending lover.

“You’re not going to join?” Tanner asked sadly, wishing that his Elder could be there with him for his first kill—a particularly important milestone that he wanted to impress Louis with. Part of his brain was still worried that he didn’t seem to care about murder...but then there was the other part that, as mentioned, _didn’t_ care. That part was louder.

“No, little monster. I will wait until New York. I need a slaughter to satisfy me and that city is ideal,” Louis informed, his resolve the very picture of strength and control.

“I hope I can have the restraint that you do someday, Elder Louis,” Tanner sighed, wondering how the fuck it was possible for Louis to not only _be_ an Elder, but also deny himself of every natural impulse that Tanner knew was coursing through his system.

“When you’re as old as I, death and abstinence from blood is much easier to handle. When you’re young, it feels like the world will stop if you resist. I remember it well…”

Louis wasn’t being entirely truthful to the new immortal. He was _also_ losing himself in the sinkhole of compelling instinct; his revived nature was bleeding out through his flesh and dominating his mind. As Elder as he was, getting flooded with immortality again was certainly doing its persistent job...but he had an inspiring reputation to uphold.

“Thanks for letting me do this,” Tanner said preemptively, his earlier nerves having washed away with the prospect of carrying his vampiric urges out.

“We’re here,” Zayn announced, Louis patting Tanner on the head and pushing off his own knees to stand. Harry wrapped him up in his arms and rocked them back and forth, both chuckling when the uneven stop of the bus jostled Marley and Erakus out of their lip-lock session.

“Come on, straight boys,” Louis teased with his most iconic scoff, only grabbing his backpack with the pyjamas in it and another pack with more of Harlock’s black curtains and thumbtacks shoved inside. He didn’t need silly little things like toothbrushes and pastes anymore, and he contemplated canning them because he never would again, but it was actually so inconsequential that he didn’t feel like bothering himself with throwing them away.

“We _are_ straight,” Erakus uselessly reminded, Marley snickering as if he might disagree.

“Just get off the bus, would you?” Louis laughed, snapping his fingers and wheeling his arm to get them going. Once everyone had passed, Louis and Harry stepped out and shut the door, the tired and somewhat antsy group quickly making their way inside the tall building of Best Western, walking into a decorative and log-cabin-type lobby and strolling up to the desk.

This time they didn’t need to hassle with a homophobic desk employee, and they were given four separate rooms for each couple to temporarily die in until sunset. Louis punched the third floor button on the elevator they’d piled into and watched the doors languidly come together, Martin and Tanner visibly relaxing after they were enclosed and no longer in the immediate range of humans.

“You guys are doing great,” Louis encouraged, winking at Tanner because his control was especially impressive, considering all he could likely think about was the fact he’d be getting a kill in soon.

“Thanks,” Niall replied easily, thanking the stars that he didn’t look as strung out as Tanner did. He wanted to be alive again, sure, but the need wasn’t gnawing on him quite so bad. Maybe he really would be a hospital-bag-only kind of vampire—he really hopes he will be at least.

“Just remember, Tanner. _One_. Any more than that and you're gonna get stuck in a frenzy,” he said, training his authoritative eyes on Martin. “Are you gonna uphold that?”

“I promise I'll stop him,” Martin vowed, looking forward to killing one of his own as well.

“I leave it to you...Niall, are you sure you don't want to go with them?” Louis asked, under the correct impression that a quick release now was better than a pent-up explosion later.

“Positive. I don’t wanna kill anyone,” Niall said, Zayn giving him a sidelong gaze of wonder.

“You are a gift upon humanity, Niall,” Louis snorted, confused as to how it was even possible for a baby vampire to cope with and/or not actually feel the prime urge.

“Well...I won’t lie, I kind of want to? I think? I feel like I wanna do really bad things, but I’m just not going to. I won’t let myself,” Niall corrected, a look of fierce determination on his thoughtful face.

In Louis’ opinion, that was almost better. More noteworthy. To feel it anyway and be strong enough to actively ignore it was something not even Louis could do at the moment—it was weighing down on every single one of the Elder’s thoughts like two school buses stacked on top of each other (if he were a helpless human crushed underneath).

Although, if Niall knew how good it felt, maybe he wouldn’t be so neutral...Louis knew exactly how good it felt. That’s why he was suffering. “My point stands,” he forced out of his throat, giving a substantial cough to theoretically eject the stress.

The slow-moving elevator dinged obnoxiously and every immortal inside covered their ears in distaste, quickly walking out of the contraption before it could make any more shrill noises. They followed the hallway down to find their rooms, the numbers more spread out than they had been for the smaller motel in Murphy, and none could wait to finally be “alone” with their lover. Harry and Louis came to theirs first and they called out half-assed goodbye’s, practically falling into the room and leaving the rest of their group to their own defenses.

Louis took over the tacking job again and hauled the big black curtain out of its small bag by comparison, dragging it over to the window with the tack box in hand. He stepped up onto the desk because he was still short and flicked the plastic top off the box, pinning the drape one by one while Harry admired him from the bed.

“You can’t fool me,” Harry mused carefully, disinclined to anger his anxious lover; he just wanted him to know that he could talk if he wanted to.

“Oh yeah? And what am I fooling you with?” Louis responded, finishing the last tack because he’d incorporated vampiric speed to finish the job quickly.

“That you’ve got yourself together,” Harry said, coming up behind Louis and pulling him off the desk, into the safe haven of his arms. “That you’re not screaming inside your head.”

Louis whipped around and shoved Harry off of him, greatly displeased with being outed, even if the claim was an accurate one. He didn’t need a reminder that he was teetering on the edge of a breaking point. “Am I not handling myself perfectly acceptably?” he challenged, his hands shaking as he rubbed them across his cheeks and further back onto the nape of his neck. “Am I running into the wild as we speak?” he added, struggling against Harry when the Roman threw his arms around him again.

“No, you’re not,” Harry admitted, walking them over to the bed and sitting them down on the bouncy mattress. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not doubting your capability to deny the nature. I just know that you are making it seem like you’re doing better than you are,” he amended, startled when Louis put up the strongest fight yet.

“Maybe you _should_ doubt me,” Louis snarled, on track to escape and go on a rampage with Tanner and Martin because apparently he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. What was the point hiding it? Denying it? What were humans anyway? Drugs. Drugs he needed. “Let go of me, Harry!” he snapped, his Roman standing his ground and shoving him down on the duvet to hover over him and talk some sense into him.

“I won’t let you kill humans here, Louixander. Not only do we need this place, but even if we _were_ to go with Tanner, you know damn well that you’d kill far more than _just one_. You’re a savage, my King; you absolutely would not stop until the entire town was dead, and I’m not letting you do that because I know deep down you don’t really want to,” he asserted, trapping Louis’ wrists and pressing them down into the bed above his fanned hair, immobilizing most of his fidgeting by doing so.

“It hurts so much,” Louis whispered, letting his inner weakness out to the only creature on Earth who’d ever deserved to see it.

“I know it does, baby. I know. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you right now turning again so recently. But I also know that you can overcome this. You can and you _will_ wait until New York, and then I swear I will set you loose,” Harry assured, resting their foreheads together and releasing Louis’ wrists so they could both embrace the other.

“Not just that, you’ll join me,” Louis specified, hiding his hands in the jungle of Harry’s curls. The sound of that hair always reminded Louis of a flowing body of water, and it drowned out even the blaring evidence of human couples fornicating from almost every room on the third floor.

“I will,” Harry said with a sly grin, itching to let his beast out after so long of being the “good vampire.” He wasn’t a good vampire and he never had been. It was all for Alexander’s sake—his ideals—but if Alexander himself was now saying it was okay again, then pacifism could suck his limp dick.

“What happens when we run into Auron again?” Louis asked, pointedly changing the topic because it had been as dissected as it could be. He wasn’t okay, he wasn’t coping, but it was temporary; and with Harry’s help and support, he’ll undoubtedly make it to New York.

“We destroy him,” Harry answered obviously, pushing Louis’ shirt up his torso before the King caught the intent and took it off for him, throwing the removed garment from his hands onto the floor.

“And if Azazel is with him? You can’t fuck me right now, Harry,” he noted, allowing the Roman to strip his pants and underwear from his legs anyway. “We can’t even come…”

“If Azazel is with him, we’ll deal with it. We’ll find a way; you and I always do... And I don’t care, I just need to touch you,” he added, quickly disposing of his own clothes until they were both naked and wrapped in each other’s arms.

Louis sighed and reveled in the gentle caresses of their skin contact, craning up to Harry’s face and automatically connecting their lips, lazily kissing as they worked up to their favourite act.

Harry’s left hand came up from Louis’ hip to his face, lightly scratching from his lower jaw to the top of his shoulder, pinching the designated spot he’d chosen for ouroboros and breaking the kiss.

Louis scooted closer and rolled Harry on top of him, eyeing the opposite side of Harry’s neck for where he wanted. He found a particular old scar and extended his fangs, pulling Harry down into his neck while he simultaneously reached his goal as well. They both bit at the same time and moaned in the same tonal registry, their hands squeezing the same part of their backs while they felt the same sensation in their bodies.

Everything about Hadrian and Alexander, Harry and Louis, was a celestial balance of yin and yang. A cosmic conjunction that rivaled that of the founding points: light and dark. The matching puzzle pieces of their every conversation, action, and belief were so connected that they could hardly be called “two” pieces anymore. The immovable lines had long since blurred to form one solid piece—a piece of something greater than either creature could fathom. Something infinite and limitless. Something that allowed Alexander’s soul to reform its old bonds. Something working in the background of this silly little thing called life that just wanted to give the ancient lovers a second chance. The gods? Himself? He didn’t know…

Did he even care either way?

Not particularly, no.

 

\---

 

“Wake up!”

Louis flinched awake, feeling like he'd been misfortunately joined by a plugged-in toaster in a bathtub. Though...now that he's immortal...no, he shouldn't try that. Brains still fry. _Or would they_? “What?” he griped, punching Harry in the side because he'd slept right through the interruption, as per usual.

“Hmm...ribbons suit you fairly, my Kingly gift,” the Roman slurred, turning over and dreamily sighing into his pillow.

“Guys!”

“Harry, wake the fuck up!” Louis snapped, throwing the covers off and fishing for his clothes. “This is 1973, you're not unwrapping me in medieval England.”

“Louis!”

It was then that Louis smelled it—vampires. And obviously not their own. He yanked his underwear and pants on with his natural speed and dashed to the door, flinging it open to find Erakus getting ready to pound on it again. “What's happening?” he asked, quickly untacking the curtain and shoving it into the duffel bag.

“I don't know, they haven't attacked. Haven't even seen them, and Martin is the only other one who can smell them. He woke us all up to tell you,” Erakus replied, an antsy look on his face because the group of outsiders was apparently as big as theirs and nobody knew what their intentions were.

“Is everyone up?” Louis asked, taking a second to open his senses and find out for himself.

“Yeah, we're all in Martin’s room,” Erakus said anyway, his eyes falling to Harry, still asleep in bed.

“Yeah, I know,” Louis grumbled, striding over and cracking his palm down on the Roman’s bare ass, eliciting quite the yelp as Harry came into jarring consciousness.

“The _fuck_ , Lou—” Harry began, stopping short when he smelled the air and the immortal scent that inhabited it. “What…”

“We don't know, get dressed,” Louis ordered, throwing him his pile of clothes from the floor and checking the room for any stragglers.

“What do we do?” Erakus asked, trying to divert his eyes from the proud form of the Roman Elder’s naked body as he stood.

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Louis replied, stuffing his feet into his shoes.

“We...take them to court?” Erakus asked dumbly, scratching at his styled quiff.

“No, you imbecile. We don't consider them enemies unless or until they attack us. This is 1973, as I've said for the second time this evening. I thought the vampire species was plenty in the _1500’s_ —well, they're everywhere now,” he reasoned, lifting all three bags and pulling the barely awake Harry out of the room after he'd been deemed socially acceptable. “Would you perk the fuck up, please?” he hissed, following Erakus down the hall to Martin’s room.

“Sorry,” Harry croaked, grunting as his chest was pelted with one of their bags. He juggled it a bit until he had a good grip, throwing it over his shoulder as he resumed his apologies. “You wear me out, even if you don't intend to. Maybe it's my old age but a night of touching and drinking from you makes me feel like I have an alcoholic hangover...I've been tired since we trashed the mansion,” he chuckled.

“Heh...fossil,” Louis snorted, walking into the room that Erakus had opened for them. Upon entry, he was met with the pensive forms of his group, their faces bleak and concerned. Tanner looked especially refreshed, as did Martin, but he refused to acknowledge the reason why. He _refused_.

“What’s going on? Can you tell who they are?” Niall asked, keeping his voice down just in case the strangers could hear them.

“Not who, no,” Louis said, pausing to direct his entire attention to the vampires in the hotel. “I can’t immediately smell Auron, though that hasn’t always meant something...they’re not moving...in the lobby with...humans,” he informed, both him and Harry taking deep breaths to reassess the attainable facts.

“Eleven of them,” Harry said confidently, clucking his neck in confusion when Louis shook his head to disagree. “What? More?”

“There’re twelve,” Louis stated, impervious to Harry’s dramatic downward spiral of self-hatred when he finally noticed the last one. “Twelve and...nine humans,” he said, trying to discern their conversation but having a hard time because there was an overstock of humans in the building that spoke over their casual volume.

“Twenty two? That’s a big group,” Niall noted, crossing his arms and leaning against his upset Pakistani. Zayn was mad that he couldn't sense them as well as the three eldest, and Erakus and Marley were kind of in the same boat.

“Okay, first of all, nine and twelve make twenty _one_. Secondly, there's only twelve to worry about. And only two Elders,” Louis corrected with a snappish and impatient tone, his present irritation stemming from Niall’s nonsense worries. The group could be as big as it wanted to be; the strangers had two Elders of Zayn’s age with them, and Louis’ group had two ancients. Pretty good odds, wouldn’t you say?

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? There's eight of us…” Niall contended, double-checking their numbers because apparently his math could not be trusted.

“They could have fifty! Did you happen to fucking _forget_ who I am?” Louis growled, stalking forward while he raised a fist until Harry sprung into action and rapidly yanked him back into his chest.

“No one is challenging you, Louixander. Calm down, you're wound too tight,” the Roman murmured into his ear, trying his hand at guiding his love back from the edge of temper.

“Is he okay?” Zayn asked, aware that the behavior Louis was displaying was a tad out of the ordinary, even for the Elder King whose middle name was attitude.

“I am _fine_ ,” Louis snarled, struggling against the cage of Harry’s arms, which only made Harry hold on tighter.

“ _Mégas_ ,” Harry hissed threateningly, nicking the King’s neck with his fangs just to get his attention.

Louis exhaled like he was trying to breathe his anger out of his lungs, having reached a higher level of clarity after the sharp pain upon his skin. He turned his face to Harry’s and nodded to say he was done, looking then to the floor in petulance because he wasn’t ready to admit he’d done anything wrong. Zayn lowered the arm that had jutted out in front of Niall for protection, and Louis huffed in annoyance, leaving the room to go deal with this outsider situation.

Harry walked out after him and roughly pinned Louis against the wall as he shut the door for an illusion of privacy, enacting the small amount of dominance he could still hold over the Macedonian, regardless of their age difference. “That was uncalled for, Louis. You need to reel it in, okay?” he whispered into Louis’ hair, tightening the grip he had on his arm until it obviously caused him pain.

Louis fought against all his desires to smack Harry in the face and simply nodded his head, winning his freedom as Harry backed off, soon accompanied by their entire group. “Sorry… This way,” he said, interlocking his fingers with Harry’s and strutting down to the hallway elevator.

The group walked toward the strengthening scent and it led them into a high-ceilinged dining room adjacent to the lobby, where dinner was obviously being served given the time. It took all of half a second to find the group of immortals and their humans, but what was alarming was the strangers’ reactions to seeing _them_.

“Bastion!” an Elder male with tan skin and long, straight black hair cried like a siren, his whole group scattering like a school of startled fish. “It's Bastion! RUN!”

“ _Stop_!” Louis bellowed, every single creature in the room halting like time itself had been put on pause. “Bastion?” he whispered to Harry in confusion.

“I don't know, they're looking at me,” Harry responded, staring back with furrowed eyebrows.

Louis gathered that meant the group thought they were seeing Auron, and he rolled his eyes. He couldn't deny they looked similar but you'd have to be blind to not tell them apart...but he supposed he couldn't expect others to see the differences so plainly. He grabbed Harry by the wrist and led him to their table, calling out a quick “Carry on” to the occupants of the tense room.

Harry took over at that point and motioned for the terrified group to sit back down, his desire for explanations clouting his entire mind. These immortals knew Auron, and they were scared for their lives in his alleged presence...why? “This Bastion you speak of—he looks identical to me, yes?”

The Elder whom he'd addressed studied Harry’s appearance like he was conducting a sociological experiment, narrowing and widening his eyes as he began to notice the differences. “Yeah…” he said carefully, cringing when Harry leaned down to get in his face.

“That's my twin brother,” Harry stated, using a tone that implied he didn't particularly like that fact. “We hate and want to kill each other. An enemy of his is a friend of mine so sit peacefully. You're in no danger here.”

“A twin?” the tan-skinned Elder challenged, unable to establish a firm belief in his words because for one, a twin? _Twin_ identical Elders? _Really_? And for two, this “brother” could still kill him regardless—plus the other Elder beside him.

“Look at my neck,” Harry said, tilting his face up to display his excessive array of ancient bite scars. “Is my brother’s neck covered in marks of ownership?” he reasoned, even pulling his collar down to show that the scars traveled all the way down his front.

“No,” the Elder agreed, meeting his own group’s eyes to assert their situation was at least partly safe. “Who are y—”

“Tell us everything you know,” Louis demanded, pulling up nearby chairs to their table so everyone could sit down. His group took their delegated seats and played a quick game of scoots so they could all fit, and then Louis slapped his hands down on the surface to warrant control. “You thought he was his brother, and you panicked. Why?”

The Elder sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, taking the closest human into his lap and letting her curl into him. “I met Bastion about a month ago—”

“Okay, call him ‘Auron.’ That's his name,” Harry interjected, having too much history with his brother to call him by anything else. He didn't expect his brother to suddenly refer to him as ‘Harry’ either.

“Alright. I met Auron last month at a blood club in Los Angeles. A friend of mine spoke of a network of predators that were involved with the human trafficking in those establishments...we didn't know much at the time. All we heard was that they were all connected and there was a plot brewing in the whispers of the V.I.P sections,” he said sadly, as though it was painful to recount.

Meanwhile, Harry’s thoughts were dedicated to the experience he'd had at _Sharp Tongue_. The instantaneous attack they'd endured once they'd gone downstairs, the weird looks from even the bartender, the charged atmosphere of the entire place—it all made sense...except not at all. “Well what did you find out?” he pressed.

“That Bas— _Auron_ —is the leader of the predators. That every blood club is owned by him. That he alone runs the fang virgin trafficking industry. That the V.I.P sections are more for revolutionary unveiler recruiting than simple Elder pleasing. That—”

“Wait, even _I'm_ lost,” Louis admitted, looking first to the outsider Elder, then to Harry. “Are those whiny, vain, attention-seeking whore vampires _still_ trying to fulfill their preposterous ambition of worldwide recognition?” he asked incredulously, having thought they'd have given up by now after the guardians knocked them down. He hasn't cared about the secret keepers and revealers in a _long_ time, and it was hard to believe that battle was still going on to this day.

“They never stopped; we just stopped paying attention after the plague. Did our own thing. Most Elders didn't give a shit either way, but it's safe to assume some do,” he theorized, looking to the unfamiliar Elder for deeper explanation.

“You’d be right,” the Elder said, a grim look downing his lips as he brooded over the subject.

“What's your name?” Harry asked, considering a first-name basis to be logical given the serious nature of their conversation.

“I am Sani. It means ‘the old one’ in the language of my Navajo people. This is my cousin, of the Hopi tribe, Chowilawu,” he said, pointing to his left as the Elder of similar features shyly waved. “It means ‘joined by water,’” he added, glancing down at the rest of his table to complete the introductions.

“We only needed your names,” Louis said to the only two Elders, likely stirring up loads of disappointment from his group of teenagers but he couldn't spare the time on them.

“Understood. And I can call you…” Sani trailed, his tone hanging off the end of the inquiry.

“Hadrian. Of Rome,” Harry said, always a fan of bragging about his identity.

Not as much as Louis, though. “Alexander of Macedon.”

“Alexander...the _Great_?” Chowilawu asked in shock, completely missing the eyeroll from Hadrian over getting outshined.

“Oh you've heard of me?” Louixander asked innocently, soaking in the validating effects of his never-ending self-obsession. As old and wise as he was, he could not deny the conceited pleasures of validation.

“It is an honour,” Sani said deferentially, nearly forgetting what they'd even been talking about in the presence of such a historically renowned immortal. He hadn't actually known that the old Asian King was a vampire, but he definitely was not surprised. If anyone ‘deserved’ the status of an immortal, it was Alexander the Great.

“I did that all as a human, you know—”

“Can we get back to Auron please?” Harry asked, cutting Louis’ ego-drowning off with a meager shadow of patience. “Why are you running from him? What happened between you two?”

“It was about a month ago to the day,” Sani began, the human in his lap jolting when he shifted because she'd temporarily fallen asleep. “We infiltrated the club in Los Angeles, called _The Crimson Hollow,_ posed as predators in search of glory, since that was what we'd been humbly instructed to do. By the chance of fate...Auron had been there that night. And he tried to coerce Chowilawu and I himself…”

“Coerce you to…?” Louis pressed, needing the specifications in absolutes. Now was not the time for ambiguity.

“Join him. Become a member of his vastly growing collection of Elders who desire power over the governments of the world. He made sure to tell me that his plan would soon come to pass, that all I had to do was wait for his signal, and that he was looking forward to sharing the fruits of victory with me,” he said with a shutter, his nightmares of late involving an incessant amount of the dark insanity in Bastion— _Auron’s_ —eyes.

“Who is this Elder guardian that gave you this information?” Harry wondered, failing to see how this all connected.

“Ahote, ‘restless one’ of the Hopi. He had been watching the clubs in Arizona and became convinced misdeeds—of stronger magnitude than just the usual trafficking—were festering under their grounds. I was asked to investigate, and I did, and I was able to report my findings to Ahote over the phone. We went back several times over the course of this month, and won their worthless trust...but it was last night…”

“It may be hard but we need to know,” Louis soothed, surprising even himself by resting a hand over the indigenous American immortal’s hand.

“Our group used to be twice this size,” Sani said pointedly, an abundance of secret pain dimming his aura. “We went back to steal their virgins—”

“Why in the blasted underworld would you steal virgins?” Louis scoffed as he removed his hand, revising his judgmental demeanor in an instant when he realized he’d hit a nerve.

“Because we don’t think it’s right!” Sani snapped impressively courageously, a passion exuding from his core that had not yet had the chance to surface. “Regardless of how common and ever-present it is to those places, we feel it is an unjustifiable cruelty.”

Louis fought the urge to roll his eyes—as noble as Sani’s cause may be, fang virgins were a priceless commodity, and Louis saw no crime in rounding them up for the enjoyment of Elders. They were appreciated, treated gently and with care, and to have their blood taken first by an Elder immortal, giving them the rapture of Elder endorphins, left only benefits for those clueless humans. It was a win-win all around, and Louis snootily looked down upon the pacifists of today.

“They’re taken from their families, from their homes—treated like they’re objects without stories to tell...without emotion and memories of their own. They have just as much right to life as we, and they’re innocent. Most end up as fiending fang whores on the streets; cast aside like used tissues after their first bite from our fangs. Some are brought home and taken in by their Elders, Linda for example,” he said with a head nod toward the girl in his lap, lightly scratching the top of her head that was tucked under his chin. “But that is a rare occurrence, and not one that most virgins ever see.”

“So you’re against the virgin industry but you’d—”

“I took her neck for the very first time to uphold the persona I had created for myself. I won’t deny that my heat greatly desired her...leaving her afterward was the hardest thing I’d done in a while. And since I’d done that—a _direct_ fault of mine—she became an addict. She hung around _The Crimson Hollow_ every minute it was open after that, hanging off of every vampire she saw...I couldn’t stand it, and when we finally enacted the last part of our plan, I grabbed her on the way out.”

“How has she been?” Niall asked out of turn, curious over her state of mind because as a human, he’d only ever experienced bites from one vampire, and the reasonable frequency had been thoughtfully spread out so his health stayed afloat.

“A bit spacey but she’s coming back,” Sani assured, bouncing her up and down on his thighs and petting her hair.

Niall accepted the information as though he knew what it all meant, but he was truthfully a bit lost. He figured that fang whores were locked in such a constant state of intoxication that when left without, or suddenly given a regimented schedule, the endorphins probably took awhile to fully work through their system...if Auron and Louis were anything to go by. Auron had made Louis nuts for weeks…

“So this group used to be bigger,” Harry threw back in, only a hair reluctant to bring that intensity back to the native immortal but they were wasting time, for the love of Jupiter.

“During our escape...I mean we’d narrowly missed getting out of the club in general. Auron’s workers below exceeded our expectations, especially because most were younger than my cousin and I, and they made it extremely difficult to get the virgins out while protecting ourselves,” Sani said, pausing as the events replayed whether he wanted them to or not.

Chowilawu noticed and took over straight away, filling the fleeting silence with the second half of the story. “But we did make it out. We had more numbers than them, and they hadn't been expecting it, nor did they receive any prior cause for alarm. It was an ambush they didn't anticipate, and that was the only reason it went so well...at first…” he corrected, moving on with a leaden sigh. “We were running through the woods back to our cars when they caught up with us. They'd gotten over the shock—we lost half of our group, and four of the humans. All were perished,” he said, looking off to the side as he tormented himself with the guilt he'd been struck with.

“It was a lost cause for them. We couldn't have stopped it,” Sani said, sounding as though he were almost trying to justify it to himself. To convince himself they'd made the right call. “If we'd kept fighting, we only would have lost more of us, and maybe all. Considering how battered we were, it was lucky enough to have made it out of there with the chopped numbers that we had.”

“So now you’re on the run from them,” Louis concluded, sharing a particularly weighted look with Harry. How close behind this group were Auron’s vampires? Are they still trying to find them or have they given up? Would coming in contact with these predators play into their hands anyway? Might be fun to take a few out.

“We’re on our way to Arizona to take refuge in Navajo...or...what’s left of it,” Sani bit, the “reservation” discussion getting put on the backburner because it wasn’t currently of any severe importance. “I met this group of teenagers in Stockton, but I fear California is the worst place to be in right now—”

“I can attest to that,” Louis muttered under his breath, setting aside his adamant bone to pick with that state. It had jailed him...forgive him for being touchy on the whole concept.

“—and I can only hope that we are not currently being tracked,” Sani finished, his eyebrows coming together in apprehension. There was no way to tell until either side found the other. Didn’t take a genius to know that would end in bloodshed.

“We are on the run from the same groups,” Harry confessed, the native cousins having won over his heart almost instantly. He knew he could trust these travelers and if they weren't neck deep in the same theme of problems, he would most certainly try to stay and help them. “Though we admit...we did not know the extent of their reach. This has explained more than you can imagine, and I’m glad we found you at this point in our journey. No more blood clubs for us,” he grumbled as an afterthought, his chin rested in his palm as he mulled over the recent past.

Auron showing up days after Zayn had taken him to the _Sharp Tongue_. Auron appearing from thin air the minute they all went back. Auron getting wind of Louis’ location in the Northern California jail. He hadn’t understood how Auron had seemed so omniscient and unavoidable, but he got it now. Auron owns every last blood club in what Harry assumed to be the world—he had ears and eyes in every country, state, city, county, and town...no fucking wonder.

Louis hummed in approval of the information they’d given and received, standing as one with his group as they brought the conjuncture to a close. Small smiles were given to the new group, and they were a breath away from walking away when Sani held up his hand, Alexander and Hadrian immediately turning to address him while everyone else scrambled to do so.

“Please accept our offering of two humans to Lord of Asia, Alexander. Your esteemed presence really was a treasure to behold, and it is only right to pay our dues. I believe with you, they are in good hands, and our group could use the loss of two mortals to pamper,” Sani pledged, staring at the ancient Elder and taking him in one last time before they would likely forever part. He was short and vigorous, with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet spread out further than anyone else, making every inch of height difference up in power and authority. A true chief must not dwell on personal characteristics that could be construed as flaws or disadvantages; instead, he must hone and become one with these elements—corrall them to his mercy and rise above the odds. Alexander did these things and he did them with grace and valor, of that, Sani was sure.

Louis’ eyebrows rose up his forehead in interest, his lips curling into a smirk from innately earning such a tempting and respectful formality. How could he possibly say no? He stalked forward and walked down the length of the table with a studious purpose, boring his eyes into the entire selection of nine to choose the absolute best pair.

His gaze stopped on one feather-haired Chinese boy, and one dark-eyed boy that looked to be of Slavic descent. He flicked between the two and made up his mind, beckoning them over to him and waiting patiently as they stood and walked around the table. “Hello darlings. Stay still for me,” he cooed, hiking the Chinese boy’s shirt up his chest to look at the number of marks on his skin. He had a fair amount but it did not come close to that of a whore’s. He smoothed the shirt back down and checked his neck afterward, lifting the smooth strands of his jet black hair and chuckling when the touch made the human shiver.

He then moved on to the other lad, lifting his shirt the same and feeling around his neck, over the tops of his shoulders, and down his arms, lining the boys up beside each other and reassuring himself that he’d made the right decisions. “We’ll take them,” he said as he pushed them back around to face their original saviors, taking each nervous human under his arms and smiling when they molded into his sides.

“Excellent choices,” Sani quipped, placing a fist over his heart and standing as he bowed, Chowilawu, and all the other immortals at the table (even the naïve humans) bending halfway over in worship. “I wish you the safest of travels,” he added, rising back up and smiling as cordially as he could, every immortal having the same sticky plague in the back of their minds—they could all die tomorrow.

“If you see my brother, give him a message for me,” Harry said, walking backward as his group began to exit the dining room, still followed closely by the total irrelevant eyes of those who had witnessed their loud and dramatic introduction.

“Anything,” Sani vowed, seconded by the approving hum of his Hopi cousin.

“And me,” Louis butted in, making his short and quick so Harry could have his turn. “Tell him Alexander said ‘the immortal King is back. And he’s not happy,’” he recited, waiting until he got a nod of promise before turning away with his new humans.

“Tell him ‘Hadrian knows. And he’s not going to let it happen,’” Harry said with an easygoing shrug, hoping that those messages were never delivered anyway because that would entail certain oblivion for the middleman...but just in case...he’d like Auron to know neither of them were rotting in the shadows anymore.

He’d like Auron to know that some of his carefully constructed and nefarious ambitions had come to light when he’d worked so hard to keep them hidden; the inner-workings of his unstable mind had unfurled. Auron’s blood club business was a cover to recruit restless Elders into his plan of unredeemable crimes against humanity, _and_ anyone who disagreed with him. A plan which had spawned from before the time of Alexander’s death, and possibly long before.

Nothing seemed to be on Harry and Louis’ side at the moment, but what the Roman wanted his sickening brother to know was that he wasn’t going anywhere. When he said ‘neither rotting in the shadows,’ he meant _neither_. If Auron was going to crawl out of his hole, then Harry would run out faster. If Auron was going to take over the world, Harry would take it back harder. And if Auron was going to come after Louixander or himself, Harry was going to kill him sooner. Watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we know that Auron is the leader of the clubs, the glory-obsessed vampires of their society, and the trafficking for Elders. That mostly ties into the clubs, but he does it in other places as well. Hmmm...and Azazel is backing him...on his side? Are we sure? Can I give you any clarity? HELL no. No way in Hades' lair. I am Jackson, after all. Alright, until next time! I'm going home tomorrow (later today technically, it's 4am) and i'll have time to sit down and get into it then. Love you, thanks for waiting. Sorry if this was uneventful. BUT WE DID LEARN A LOT, NO?


	22. Taming The Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello againnnn heh heh heh. Alright so uh...you'll see.  
> Now, I gotta say, I am well past the years of public school, BUT one of the things that I hope, is that some of you ARE in school still. And I hope that you are/will learn about Alexander the Great in history class. I hope you have an entire week dedicated to him and his life. I want you to ace every single quiz, assignment, or essay about him. And I hope you laugh your fucking ass off and piss off your teacher when the date of his death is mentioned, cuz you know as well as I do that he was turned on his death bed. I need you to be more interested in Roman and Greek history than anything, and impress the fuck out of your teacher by knowing everything about either Alexander or Hadrian. The prequel will have even more of this shit, and I'm excited. I really like the concept of this, and if this ever applies to you, please let me know when Alexander the Great comes up in your history class. I will be shrieking with pleased laughter. You've probably got an entirely new perspective of him now, and I sincerely hope I've seared him into some of your brains forever.  
> Onto a fun fact: For some fucking reason, for the hippie van, the windowless van, and this bus, I imagine the driver seat on the right side instead of the left. Not Zayn's car, just these ones. Why? I don't know. I'm a Cali boy. They're still driving on the right side of the road, but the driver's seat is ALWAYS on the right side as well in my head. I'm probably the only one, and I honestly can't understand why. I've never written it that way for obvious reasons, but just know that's what's going through my mind xD  
> Hope you like this...it's about...well you'll see.

“So...what are your names?” Louis cooed to the airy humans stood in the middle of the bus, pulling the jostled beauties over to sit down when Zayn rolled the rickety bus out of the parking lot.

“I’m Josiah,” the brunette said with an obvious Russian accent, blinking his big eyes at the two vampires, who had switched places and were now standing where they had a moment ago.

Louis mentally pat himself on the back for guessing Josiah was of slavic heritage just by looking at him, and he nodded to show he’d heard and internalized the name. “And you?” he asked the black haired boy, smirking into his almond-shaped and dark brown eyes.

“Eden,” the boy responded, consequently raising the Elder’s eyebrows.

“Your parents named you Eden?” Louis asked skeptically, having expected a much more Chinese name to tumble from his lips.

“Orphan,” the boy explained simply, missing the rubbernecking that Tanner did at the word ‘orphan.’

“We’ll be your family for a little while,” Louis soothed, crouching before the boy’s knees and running his palms up his thighs. “Would you like that?” he asked coyly, biting his bottom lip when Eden spluttered speechlessly. “I knew you would,” he mused confidently, shifting his eyes to Josiah because he was playing favourites and it was time to let the Russian go to more attentive immortals.

He grabbed the boy’s hand and walked him to the back of the bus, having to leave Zayn out of the fun because _someone_ needed to be the responsible driver. Louis nearly pushed him forward into Marley’s awaiting arms so he could quickly return to Eden, but the look on Niall’s face stopped him from doing so; it was an expression of fierce and burning desire, and Louis knew exactly what it meant. Obviously.

He looked to Tanner next to see what was on _his_ face, and he could have cackled when he found Martin ensnaring him in a vice-grip while the baby vampire salivated from his fangs and frequently twitched to be set free.

Louis pushed the boy behind him and strode up to the dazed Tanner first, rearing his hand back and smacking him hard across the cheek, placing his hands on his hips while Tanner recovered from the assault.

“What?” Tanner growled, Martin doubling his efforts to keep him contained.

“You’re giving this human boy murder eyes, Tanner. And we’re not murdering these humans. Do you understand? I let you have one kill—one—are you really that greedy? Do you think you’ll get away with it? Do you think I’ll let you? Stop looking at him like that or you can’t have any of him. Am I making myself clear?” he asked condescendingly, dramatically cocking his head to the side when Tanner didn’t immediately respond.

“I won’t let him—”

“No, Martin. He needs to tell me himself,” Louis interrupted, leaning in as close as he could to Tanner and extending his fangs to hiss in his face.

“I promise I’ll control myself,” Tanner said quickly before his Elder could actually hiss, the pride he lost at voicing that vow falling far behind the amount he’d lose from getting hissed at by his superior.

“Good,” Louis quipped with a grin, straightening back up and patting Tanner on the head. He then turned Josiah around and approached the shocked Niall, guiding the human onto the blonde’s lap while he giggled at the look of incredulity he received. “Niall, this is Josiah. Can you say hi?” he suggested, though it was more on the masked order side.

“Hello, Josiah,” Niall gritted, pointedly keeping his hands at his sides and trying not to notice how warm the human was in his lap. The sound of his blood— _the scent_ —and the pretty desperation on his face were sinfully tempting, and he didn't know how long he could hold out. His fangs came out even after he’d put his all into keeping them in, but he supposed he shouldn’t be too disappointed in himself. This human was a little slice of heaven, ethereally toasting up his thighs.

“Josiah, this is Niall,” Louis continued, turning the boy’s face to stare into Niall’s eyes instead of his own. “Tell him what you want most,” he murmured, pushing the strands of hair that blocked his neck over the back of his shoulder to be extra clear.

“I want his fangs,” Josiah gasped, taking some manner of control and wiggling around on Niall’s lap until he was straddling his hips, fisting Niall’s shirt on both his shoulders and baring his neck for him.

Niall’s eyes widened as he stared at the offered area of sweet skin, but he turned them narrowed onto Louis’ smug face. “What is this? I told you I don’t want to—”

“Nobody is killing anyone,” Louis stressed, scratching Niall’s scalp and sitting down beside him. “I’ll watch you. If you lose control, I’ll stop you. Now are you going to let Josiah suffer in unfulfilled anticipation? Look at him, he’s whining for you. Take care of him,” he urged, a gentle hand in the center of Josiah’s back, just barely easing him forward.

“Please,” Josiah whimpered, his cock hardening when he felt the vampire’s cold breath on his neck.

Niall still fought it with everything he was, his fangs out in the open and inches from the human’s neck, even breathing through his nose to see if he could still deny himself, but it was Zayn’s voice that broke his resistance.

“Do it, Niall,” his creator said, looking over his shoulder and nodding his head at him.

Niall might be able to deny himself but he couldn’t deny the one who made him. He squeezed his eyes and closed the distance between his fangs and Josiah’s neck, his nature making it laughably easy to find the right spot and push his teeth down into the jittery flesh. A taste that hospital bags could never hope to compare to filled his tongue and his eyes flew open, grasping Josiah by the hips before throwing his arms around his back, never once forgetting how delicate humans were and how hard he had to hold back. He figured something like that would have been hard to focus on, but when you have such a fragile creature at your disposal, you don’t forget.

Josiah was howling in pleasure and egging Niall on, rutting his hips down and finding purchase with his hands by tangling them into the vampire’s hair, and Louis was eating the moment up—the moment of Niall’s first live feeding. It was adorable. After a short while of identical moans from the pair in the act, Louis slapped Niall hard on the shoulder, picking that time because if he’d kept going, there wouldn’t be enough Josiah to go around until about an hour had gone by.

Niall obeyed out of fear for what would happen if he didn’t, pulling off with the same gasp that every immortal does and placing a hand over his heart, grinning at the drunken human in his lap. “Wow,” he breathed, tightening his arms around Josiah and letting him collapse into his chest.

“I’m glad to see you understand now,” Louis said, meeting only slight reluctancy when he tried to separate them. “Now now,” he cooed to the human, kicking Niall in the knee for even trying to keep the human with him. “You get three more bites,” he assured, walking him over to Marley and Erakus next, just to punish Tanner for his reticence. “Make it quick, both of you. Take only what you need.”

Erakus and Marley nodded in adherence and placed the human right in the middle of them, taking opposite sides of his neck at the same time. Josiah’s cry of ecstasy was piercing and Louis let his eyes wander to his lover near the front of the bus, smiling to see Eden curled into his lap while Harry gave him a gentle back massage. The Roman’s eyes flicked to him and he smiled back, both vampires patient but eager to indulge in their human together. It had been too long.

He shook himself back to the immediate present and took Josiah away from the Harlock house immortals before they got too crazy, dropping him off with Martin and Tanner, and deciding what to do with the “straight boys” when they started devouring each other. He fished around for another black sheet and quickly tacked it (credit only to his vampire strength) to the metal ceiling to divide the bus’s interior into sections, closing the horny vampires off from the middle so nobody would have to _see_ it at least.  

Giving more thought to the sections plan, he did it once more to close off Martin, Tanner, and Niall, but his best friend decided to scuttle off to sit on Zayn’s lap instead of watch the butler couple have fun with the delicious Josiah. He finished the second one and then simply untaped the first one behind the driver’s seat that Harlock had put up with Harry at the Sparrow house, letting it billow down to create the final barrier.

He then turned on his heel and set his sights on his beautiful Roman and their little treasure, skipping over and sliding across the couch until his thigh knocked into Harry’s, Eden twisting around to be able to see both of them.

“Just precious isn't he?” Harry noted, handing Eden over as Louis scooted back to make room, situating the human between them and letting their hands roam his shaking body.

“A doll,” Louis agreed, wrapping a hand around Eden’s right thigh and draping it over both of his own, while Harry did the same with his left, spreading his legs so that both immortals could have access to Eden’s bulging groin. Their hands slid up the exposed inner parts of the human’s thighs and came to rest on the previously mentioned area, each taking a free spot and pressing their palms down to steal the boy’s sanity.

“P-please!” Eden begged with a choked gasp, his mouth falling open in pleasure while he arched his back to meet the hands’ pressure with an equal force, subtly rolling his hips as he grabbed onto the vampires’ forearms.

“My love, I do believe he wants our endorphins,” Louis murmured as he kissed up the side of Eden’s neck, interlocking his pinky finger with Harry’s thumb as they worked their hands over the front of Eden’s jeans.  

“I don’t actually think he can handle both of us,” Harry answered, no trace of teasing in his voice.

Louis made a sound of fake concern and grabbed Eden under the chin, forcing his face toward his own and boring his eyes deep into the frantic pupils of the human. “Can you handle both of us?” he asked pointedly, smiling when Eden flailed to nod his head in Louis’ grasp.

“I can! I can!” he confirmed mindlessly, baring his neck and bouncing on their shared laps to speed things up even though his actions would do nothing.

“See?” Louis quipped, pushing Eden back so he could look around him at Harry’s unconvinced face. “He says he can.”

“Whatever. It’s not my dopamine,” Harry shrugged, nuzzling his way past Eden’s hair to reach his neck while Louis repeated the movement from his side.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Harry asked his King, prepared to help him if he lost control.

“Let's bite him and find out,” Louis rasped, extending his fangs and coating them with his powerful saliva.

Harry rolled his eyes and returned to Eden’s neck, extending his own and choosing his spot.

Eden held his breath and tears brimmed in his eyes as he fleetingly imagined what two bites from two Elders would feel like. He felt their lips on his neck as they kissed him in preparation and he shut his eyes, ready to lose all sense of reality when he was finally taken from. And when the fangs sank into him…

Louis chuckled when Eden screamed, his palm dampening from the human’s evident release upon being bitten. Both his and Harry’s innermost hands had crept up into Eden’s hair and were holding fistfuls to keep his head in one spot, but they let them drift closer together so they could have contact with each other.

They all lost track of how many times Eden came; he was sobbing, shrieking, gasping and groaning in deafening decibels but it was actually drowning out the soundtrack of Erakus and Marley fucking in the back, so the ancient couple were in full support.

Eventually their endorphins knocked Eden out entirely, and after roughly five seconds of silence, the lovers—even the begrudging Louis—took their fangs out. Eden keeled over into Louis’ side and the vampire caught him in his arms, lifting him off the couch and walking over to the opposite one, where he then laid him down the length of it so he could nap in peace. Peace from whatever Harry and Louis were about to do with their burst of life.

Louis raced back to Harry, leaping through the air after only one step because he couldn’t handle being apart any longer, and crashed into the chuckling Roman, the two of them toppling over because Harry had dodged the head-on collision at the last second.

“What are you going to do to me, huh? My shy and reserved lover?” Harry challenged, his hands making their way down Louis’ back as the King kissed up his chest and neck.

“Shut up and get your cock out,” Louis muttered, unwilling to give the Harry the benefit of “I told you so”’s, or some of the like, phrases he so annoyingly utilized at the most inconvenient opportunities.

Harry complied with a wicked smirk, undoing the buttons of his earthy corduroy pants and reaching into his underwear to pull out his leaking erection, letting it fall to his stomach, the tip just shy of his navel, and waiting for Louis to do whatever he wanted with it.

Louis licked his lips and grasped Harry’s shaft, the feeling of it warm and alive in his palm. He gave it a few tugs and then dove down to Harry’s neck, going over one of the last scars he hadn’t reopened yet near the front to get blood to the surface. Harry flinched and Louis rose away from his short bite, swiping the spilled red substance from the twin marks and returning his hand to Harry’s cock where it belonged.

Harry hummed deep in his throat and fumbled around with Louis’ blue jeans to reciprocate the gesture, pushing the waistline over his arse to free everything from its denim cage. He brought his hand up to his own neck to gather the last of the blood before the wounds healed and then wrapped it around Louis’ cock, the King’s hand on him getting more frenzied as he met the same sensation.

Their wrists twisted and turned to expertly play each other’s cocks like instruments, their lips connecting in a blaze of passion while their fangs dropped in want, making their lip-lock a precariously difficult one. They smiled against closed lips and Louis lowered his head down to Harry’s right shoulder, kissing his way to the bottom of his neck and sinking his teeth in before Harry had even gotten the chance to do the same.

Harry grumbled and his hand quickened its pace instinctively, heaving his head off the carpeted bus to capture Louis’ neck in the equivalent location, his eyes rolling back in his head as he struggled to stay afloat. His hips rolled into Louis’ grip without him trying to, but Louis was grinding into his fist as well, so they made it work. They drank each other’s borrowed blood with a forceful brutality that neither would ever perform on a human they wanted alive, and it easily surpassed the intensity of Auron’s jail cell attack. _Easily._

Their hands pumped faster and faster, both working hard to stay focused and not get lost in the maddening bliss the other was evoking in the heated cores of their bodies. They paused their drinking to pant through their noses, staying lodged in the other’s flesh because they weren’t done yet. Their chests simultaneously tightened with a million tingles and they promptly kept drinking to fill themselves up as they lost the same stagnant amount anyway, their torsos flexing and clenching as the rounded precipice of climax was upon them.

Louis couldn't take it anymore and he wrenched away from Harry’s neck, his arm trembling as his straightened elbow threatened to give out. He splayed his fingers out for better support and locked the limb in a tense line, his working forearm cramping from the speed at which he stroked Harry. “Don't stop,” he wheezed, staring into the blown pupils of his Roman and thinking that his own were likely dilated to the same insane circumference.

“Why would I ever—”

“Shut up,” Louis snapped breathlessly, little whimpers escaping as he clambered up the mountain of release, spilling over Harry’s hand with a cry of his name, grinning when Harry spasmed and reached the same resolution.

Louis let his arm concede its valiant mission to hold him up, and he crashed down on Harry’s chest as he descended his peak. Their labored breaths evened out to match the other’s pattern, and their heart rates did the same, both immortals sated and utterly spent.

“Why do you—always think—I'm gonna stop?” Harry panted, throwing his arms around Louis’ back and fisting his shirt to hold on and keep them there.

“I don't...I just need you to know in such times...that you cannot under any circumstances stop,” Louis replied, flicking some of his wily hair out of his face.

“But I wouldn’t ever stop,” Harry reasoned, turning his face when Eden groaned on the couch, the human slowly coming to from his chemically-induced unconscious stupor.

“Doesn’t matter. Logic isn’t a factor of my mindless sexual rambling in any case,” Louis said, flipping his head to the other side so he could see the groggy human as well.

Eden finally opened his tired eyes and the first sight he saw took his breath away. He smiled and rubbed his forehead, shaking his hair and letting his arm fall down onto the carpet below. “You two are so beautiful,” he slurred, fonding at them in the typical smitten human way.

“You are quite the alluring mortal yourself,” Louis returned, able to admit the feminine qualities in the Chinese boy’s smooth face were easy on the eyes.

“Wh-what were your names again?” Eden asked in embarrassment, upset with himself that he hadn’t quite grasped that important detail yet.

“I’m Harry, this is Louis,” the Roman informed, taking Louis’ shirt off so he could clean them up.

“Harry and Louis...those are strong names. Names of Kings,” Eden noted, furrowing his eyebrows when the Elders busted up in unattractive—but still somehow musical—snorting laughter. “What?” he asked, finding himself chuckling along even though he didn’t know why.

“Nothing, it’s just...well those aren’t even our King names,” Louis explained, rolling off Harry’s pelvis and lifting his hips as he hid his softened cock away and re-buttoned his pants.

“What do you mean?” Eden inquired, propping himself up with his elbow and resting his temple on the heel of his palm, shivering when the movement set off fireworks on both sides of his sensitive neck.

“I was once referred to as Alexander the Great, King of Macedon, Persia, Asia, Pharaoh of Egypt,” Louis listed proudly, one corner of his lips crawling up in a lopsided smile when Eden’s eyes shot open the widest they could go.

“That’s _right_...I heard that at the hotel,” Eden realized in shock, wondering how his mind could be so murky that it wouldn’t retain impactful knowledge of that gravity.

“And I was called Hadrian, Emperor of the Roman Empire,” Harry added, _for once_ garnishing a more astonished reaction to his identity than Alex’s.

“No way! I _love_ ancient Rome. I read about it all the time!” Eden breathed in awe, trying to sit up but falling right back down in defeat—his body would need some time.

“Hah!” Harry snapped in Louis’ disgruntled face, his victorious grin searing its way onto Louis’ all-encompassing pride. “Well thank you for being the first to see my comparative potential,” he said to their adorable present with the big doe eyes and the sinfully full lips.

“Mmmwhat?” Eden hummed, giving up on trying to decode that one.

“Nothing,” Harry snickered. “It's just when you live beside an infamous ruler like Alexander for a millennia, a century, and forty-four years, your own accomplishments tend to be forgot. Swept under the rug in the shadow of—”

“Oh, give it _up_ , Hadrian,” Alex griped, since they were in an episode of using their former titles. “No one’s had the _chance_ to forget you were Emperor because you've never _shut up_ about being the Emperor! Whereas I don't _need_ to flaunt my status to anyone who will listen,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes when Harry jumped up to hiss down at him.

“Bullshit!” the Roman snapped, fisting Louis’ collar and yanking him to his feet. “Where have we _ever_ gone that you don't moan about being Alexander, _the Great_ , a thousand fucking times?” he sneered in a mocking tone, spitting his endorphins onto Alex’s collarbone like an agitated llama. “And why do you think I need to act as stuck up as you all the time, huh? I have mere paragraphs in the books of history, _if that_ , and _you_ —you have _chapters_!”

Alex hissed right back and smacked Hadrian’s arm away, shoving him backward with immense force but frustratingly not moving the rooted Roman very far. “I have chapters because I deserve them,” he growled, stalking forward and striking a hand out to slap Hadrian upside the glaring face. “I conquered everything I saw! What did you do? You couldn't even win the support of your senate!”

“ _Careful_ , Alexander. One more fucking word and this is gonna get ugly,” Hadrian warned, visibly shaking with rage.

Alexander cackled and opened his mouth to say that ‘one more word’ fearlessly when Eden’s giggling cut him off, and both fuming immortals paused to look over at him.

“You guys must really love each other, huh,” the human noted in amusement, laughing into his wrist with crinkled eyes.

“Hatefully so, yes,” Alexander confirmed, turning back to Hadrian and sighing his anger out.

Hadrian smiled in spite of everything and pulled Alex in by a hand on the back of his hair, kissing him on the forehead and tucking him under his chin. “With the flames of a thousand suns.”

“Have you really been together that long?” Eden asked in amazement, having forgotten the specific number of years but not that it was extensive.

“What, one thousand, one hundred, and forty-four years?” Hadrian repeated as his lover stepped back a few paces, fonding his absolute hardest at Alexander’s profile.

Alex glanced over and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his Roman and leaning his stance into one jutted hip. “Don't forget the extra two months or so that we just didn't know to add at the time,” he reminded, likely confusing Eden but not Hadrian, and that's who mattered.

“Okay, and two months,” Hadrian amended with a knowing smirk, looking back to Eden as the human formulated a response.

“That's incredible. So much history,” Eden whined in envy, wishing he had a partner like that to share an eternity with.

“With history comes pain,” Alexander said, walking across the floor and sitting down heavily on the opposite couch of Eden.

“Oh, _anguish_ ,” Hadrian corrected, having been the one—in his opinion—to bear the greatest hardship of their parting. “And until recently, it almost hadn't been worth it.”

“Get out, it was completely worth it,” Alexander negated, following Hadrian with his gaze as the Roman sat down beside him.

“Alright, it was worth it,” Hadrian admitted, lifting his arm over Alex’s head and draping it around his upper body, pulling him in as close as he could get. “But it was impossibly agonizing. No one should ever have to lose someone so cherished to them,” he lamented, reveling in the feeling of having Alexander pressed into his side, a simple pleasure he'd somehow gone centuries without.

“Lose?” Eden repeated in inquiry, once again lost in the confusion of the vampires’ words.

“That's a long story,” Alexander brushed, scooting further down to lay his head in Hadrian’s lap and stretch his legs out on the seats.

“Not one I have the heart for either,” Hadrian seconded, shooting a breezy smile at the pondering Eden. “Come sit with us,” he said, beckoning the human over with a scoop of his wrist.

Eden laughed at his weakness as he attempted to even sit, debating the logistics of how he would cross the floor and make it to them without falling. He gave it his best shot and heaved his reluctant body off the couch, stumbling and tripping his way to the arm that was reaching out to steady him. He grasped Hadrian’s hand and spun himself around as he fell backward, landing with a thump and curling into the vampire’s side, mindful of Alexander’s head resting on his thighs.

Alexander threw an arm behind him and dropped it over Eden’s hips, the trio closing their eyes as Hadrian knocked his head back on the top of the couch, painting the picture of peace and satisfaction.

It was nowhere near the wretched hours of daybreak yet but judging by the silence in the bus, all creatures seemed to be in the state of relaxation as they, and that was just fine for them. Not all time spent together needed purpose and substance; sometimes the very act of doing nothing held just as much of both.

And in Hadrian and Alexander’s case especially, just existing on the planet at the same time was enough.

 

\---

 

“Elders!” Martin snapped, amping the volume of his voice because gently calling their names had not been working.

Louis woke first, opening his eyes to find himself on his stomach with his nose right up against Harry’s crotch. He smiled and nuzzled closer, frowning because the area no longer had that heavy pheromonal scent now that Harry was dead again.

“Yes, _you_ Elders,” Martin sighed, finally getting through to and turning Louis around in Harry’s lap with his voice, meeting his strange eyes and nodding to say hello.

“What do you want?” Louis asked rudely, sliding a hand down between Harry’s legs and holding on below his right knee as he forced his eyes to stay open.

“We're coming up on a truck stop for gas, and Eden is in your care. You gotta get him stuff,” Martin said, rapidly using the roll of duct tape to pin the sectioned curtains to the ceiling and expose the whole bus.

“Alright, alright. Isn't it close to sunrise, though?” Louis yawned, pushing himself off Harry’s thighs and twisting around until he caught side of Eden, wide awake and nervous to be stuck under Harry’s left arm. “You want help?” he asked the boy, who smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Alright,” Louis gritted from the effort of standing all the way up, stepping around to lift Harry’s arm and free their human. Eden hopped out and Louis dropped the deadweight arm, shaking his head in exasperation that even that didn't wake Harry up.

“What do you mean ‘sunrise’?” Martin belatedly responded, having taken a break after taping up the curtains to give his adorable Tanner a loving kiss.

“I don't know, how long did I sleep?” Louis asked.

“You guys slept for twenty minutes,” Martin chuckled, rousing the snoozing Josiah easily because humans wake from the drop of a pin.

“How can you vampires even sleep at night?” Erakus questioned, accompanied by the secondary nod of Marley’s head. “I never get tired when the sun is down.”

“When you're old fossils like us, sleep can come at any time,” Louis replied, kicking Harry’s ankles to try and snap him out of his dreams.

“Well us too. Zayn and I have been able to sleep at night along this journey,” Martin commented, the oversleeping incident in the parking lot of the motel specifically coming to mind.

“Huh...maybe it's the stress...Harry!” Louis shouted, turning back around to resume his mission.

“Has he always been like that?” Zayn asked from the front, recalling all the times Harry and himself had wasted the night away and had only become tired when sunrise was near.

“No, not when I was a human. But times have changed now. We're old, remember? I wear him out,” Louis chuckled, grabbing his ancient lover by the face and giving both cheeks a rapid set of smacks. “Oi!”

Nothing. “Alright, step back,” Louis said, urging Eden over to Martin and shooing them both away. Martin immediately backed off and stood in front of everyone else, curious and a bit wary about what Louis would do.

Louis cleared his throat and got his hands ready to hold Harry down if he completely panicked, sharing a warning look with Martin before facing Harry and delivering his foolproof method of jumpstarting the Roman’s consciousness. “ _Auron_!”

The roar of his brother’s name blasted Harry awake and he scrambled to meet the threat, thrashing against the hands that kept him in place. “What the—” he croaked when he finally realized he was in a bus and his brother was nowhere to be seen. “Why the fuck would you do that, Louis? My brother’s name is like an air-raid siren to me; don't ring that bell if he's not really here,” he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and batting Louis’ hands away.

“Worked, didn't it?” Louis scoffed, walking to the back to retrieve a new shirt because his had been stolen and used as a cleaning rag. “Now get up. Truck stop,” he said, throwing on an orange t-shirt and taking a brush to his unruly hair.

“We're still moving,” Harry said obviously, slouching down in his seat and closing his eyes for just a second.

“Just pulling in now,” Zayn said, the brakes of the bus screaming in the highest of pitches, making the Niall on his lap flail to cover his ears.

Louis smirked and crossed his arms, shrugging one of his shoulders with his classic patronizing attitude. “See? Get up,” he said, walking over to Eden and making sure he was all in order. Clothes? Check. That's all that mattered. Little blood stains never hurt anyone...well not here anyway.

Zayn killed the engine and stood with Niall in his arms, setting him down as the other immortals made their way to the front. It was just their luck that a gasoline big rig was currently emptying the fluid into the pipe mouths that stretched upward beneath the concrete because they couldn't afford to get fucked by the oil crisis right now.

Louis, Harry, Martin, and Tanner walked the humans to the shop/diner while Zayn, Niall, Marley, and Erakus stayed behind to deal with the gassing up situation. Louis opened the glass doors for his party and let the sounds of _Fly Me to the Moon_ by Frank Sinatra waft out into the night. The song that played from the Hi-Fi stereo system made Louis want to pause the world slow dance with Harry but they'd come for a reason, and it unfortunately wasn't that.

The King led the humans down the first aisle and bypassed a number of round, flannel-adorned truck drivers on the way. He set them loose to pick out their favourite foods, and he couldn't help remembering when him and Niall had been in the same sort of position. It seemed just as much of a past life as all his others but instead of frustration, it made him smile. It was heartwarming to remember the gentle care that his vampire lover had treated him with; the enjoyment he must have had to bite the human Louis’ virgin neck and take his other one as well. Smug bastard.

“Can I get these, Alexander?” Eden asked hopefully, holding a bag of ‘taco-flavoured Doritos’ under his chin, his fingers curled around the top of the bag, tips resting just above the logo with the little brown and tan squares that framed the letters.

“Just Louis, pet,” Louis corrected, fixing a stray piece of Eden’s hair and patting him on the shoulder. “Get whatever you want.”

Eden’s eyes sparkled and he giggled with Josiah, the two scouring the aisles while Louis and Harry kept a watchful eye, impervious to Martin and Tanner buying cigarettes, plus dropping pump money, at the counter. The humans finished shopping and carried their picks to the front while Martin and Tanner shook the brown paper bag of nicotine at Harry, as if to say “We thought about you.”

Harry smiled and pulled loose change out from his pockets, waiting for the cash clerk to add it all up and ring the total. Louis took the bag of cigarettes and told Martin and Tanner to take the humans to the bathroom, sternly adding that they needed to follow them inside in case anything happened. The two nodded in understanding and took the boys’ hands, leading them down a hallway that had a sign which displayed two stick people nailed to the arch, one with two straight legs, and one with a triangle at the hips.

Louis rolled his eyes at the binary gender rules of today—these humans should see how Egypt in the Mamluk era was back in the day. Even the typically binary-inclined Greece had been open to other possibilities. In fact, considering the unmistakably male Chowilawu had been created of a female body, it’s safe to assume that the Navajo had their own inclusive customs as well. Identity wasn't always this black and white.

As he was mulling over gender roles in society over the course of human history, his nose suddenly alerted him of nearby vampires, and Martin and Tanner rushed out of the bathroom with the humans, their hands dripping with soapy water because they'd been pulled unexpectedly from their washing at the sinks.

Harry jerked and swept the change coins off the counter and into his hand, throwing it all into the bag of items and tossing everything else in faster than the clerk could have managed. He handed the bag off to Martin and ushered everyone outside, just in time to see an RV pull into the station and stop at a diagonal pump from theirs.

“Take the humans inside the bus,” Louis muttered to the butler, standing his ground to defend his family if necessary.

Zayn threw a ten dollar bill at the attendant without looking, and the boy took it happily and skirted off, probably hoping he could get away before his customer realized he'd given him way too much.

Nobody said a word as the unfamiliar vampires piled out while they laughed drunkenly, dragging their whores out behind them and whipping around to stare down the members of their own kind.

“Down with the secret!” the ringleader and eldest of the group cried, his fangs on full and blatant display, holding up a scantily-clad girl at his side who wouldn't be able to stop giggling if her life depended on it.

“Excuse me?” Louis snarled, elbowing Harry in the chest when he tried to pull him away from the scene.

Erakus and Marley leapt out from the bus after Martin got the humans inside and guarded the front, every immortal on high alert as their King faced off with the strangers.

“We're gonna run this bitch! Glad to have Elders like you on our side,” the vampire continued as though Louis _hadn't_ laid a crystal clear warning, obviously under the influence of alcoholic blood.

People were staring apprehensively at the two groups now, and some were hurrying to leave because they could sense a dangerous environment, but others were gawking wide-eyed and completely fixated on the teeth of the RV group. Louis was furious that these immortals were shamelessly exposing their kind, and though it made no logical sense, and was ridiculously counter-productive, Louis decided to take them out. “Your _side_?” he growled hatefully, leaping through the air to tear them apart for their crimes. There were six of them and one of Louis. His preferred odds.

“Louis, no!” Harry yelled, his eyes falling to the innocent bystanders of what would imminently be a traumatic bloodbath to witness.

Louis extended his fangs and crashed into the leader’s chest, knocking the wailing girl to the side as he wrapped his legs around the vampire’s torso, slapping two powerful hands on his skull brutally twisting it from his shoulders before the stranger even had the time to think. _Louis, yes._

The gruesome condition of his first victim caused the most ear-splitting screams to pierce his ear drums and they only fueled his murder spree further. Yes. They should _all_ cower—run for their fleeting lives in the presence of the Great. He jumped to his next prey before his first had even hit the floor, his fangs ripping into the immortal’s throat for fun before he swiftly removed it from his neck.

He heard the squealing of tires as cars retreated in a mad race to the main road, and though he was annoyed that those were all victims that were getting away, he made himself focus on annihilating the rest of these vampires at his disposal. He knew Harry was waiting for an in to come and stop him but he moved too fast and unpredictably for the Roman to get a clear shot, determined to finish this himself.

He sprinted to the fourth victim, who was futilely scrambling away from the carnage, and dragged him back to the pile by his hair, stomping on his neck while he yanked the head up in his fist, severing it with the skin-crawling cracking sound that he was currently surviving off of. “Who’s on your side now?” he taunted to the permanently wide-eyed head in his grip, dropping it without a care and flashing to the fifth vampire on his list.

“Louixander, by the love of all the Gods, _stop_!” Harry demanded, having herded everyone in their group back into the bus for safety purposes.

“ _I’m not fucking done_!” Louis snarled in a voice that was barely his own, not to mention of human _or_ vampire language, moments after maiming the fifth immortal beyond recognition _and then_ killing him for good.

“ _Leave it_!” Harry roared, jumping into the fray to put an end to his spree just as he’d gotten the last crying immortal under his fangs. “Jupiter, would you _help_ , please?” he begged to the sky, fully aware that his God would not shoot down from the heavens and pry Louis off the predatory vampire.

Once Louis had destroyed his final sacrifice, his wrath carried over to the sniveling humans that had traveled with the deceased group, the primal urge to kill them taking over every shred of sanity within him. He only took two steps toward the humans when the blunt force of an unknown object hit him in the side and sent him flying. Looking behind him, he realized it was Harry’s fist that had done the hitting, and he landed unceremoniously onto the pavement.

Harry had finally gathered enough power under his skin to knock Louis off course but these humans still weren’t safe. He glared at them while he brought his lure into the equation, throwing out a harsh command of “Go to sleep” at them and sighing when they all lost consciousness. He looked around and saw the only vehicles left behind were the RV and their bus; literally everyone, even the workers of the gas station, had fled. Good.

“How _dare_ you interrupt my—”

“Shut up!” Harry roared, jogging over to Louis and lifting him up by the neck, staring into his eyes and luckily finding they had more clarity in them than before. Martin hurried to drag all the bodies (and their separate parts) away from the scene and light them on fire someplace where they wouldn't cause an explosion, and Tanner threw the incapacitated humans into the RV, so now the only thing left for Harry to do was stake his claim upon Louis. “Zayn, bring me Eden!” he shouted, twisting around when they suddenly appeared beside him. “Tilt his head back.”

Zayn did as asked and lightly pulled Eden’s hair to bare his neck, holding the human tighter as he sagged when Harry’s teeth sank into his flesh.

Harry drank only what he needed and pulled off before Louis got the chance to escape his hold, turning back around and forcing the two to move toward the now empty building of the truck stop. “Now get the fuck out of here! Drive fives miles away and wait for us,” he ordered behind him without looking, one concern squandered when the bus’s engine promptly came to life and revved as the Pakistani drove away as instructed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Louis demanded, squirming as Harry wrangled him away from the open and around the back of the building.

“Putting you in your fucking place,” Harry said through clenched teeth, calling upon some dormant strength of his youth just to keep the King in his arms.

“Excuse me? I only did what all of us wanted to do—what you cowards were too _scared_ to do—”

“You _completely_ exposed us, you fool of a beast! You punished them for it by doing something _so insurmountably_ worse, you fucking hypocrite, and you're getting sorely punished for it,” he snapped, slamming Louis into the brick wall they’d arrived at so hard that cracks shot out in all directions like a spider web.

Louis grunted at the impact and fought back with everything he had, nervous that it didn't seem to be enough. He'd gone too hard and now he was tired. Not good.

Harry quickly bit into Louis’ neck to flood him with his endorphins, giving him just enough time while the King was distracted to pull his blue jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs and subsequently get his own cock out.

“Are you kidding?” Louis barked in surprise. “Get the fuck off—” But his words died off when Harry roughly entered him, his initial growl transforming into a low hiss as he arched off the wall, his nails digging into the bricks as he dropped his head back on Harry’s shoulder.

Now that it didn't look like Louis would be protesting anymore, Harry took the opportunity to say what he needed to, slamming into Louis’ body with unforgiving thrusts and drawing his favourite noises from the King’s throat as he did. “You were so damn beautiful back there, baby. My treacherous, horrendous little Louixander. You don’t know how long I’d waited to see that demonic monster of yours again, but you released it at the _wrong fucking time!_ ” he scolded, treating Louis’ hipbones like Louis’ nails were treating the wall. “You need to quit this rampage while you’re ahead, and if you don’t think you can, I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” he vowed, biting Louis’ neck again as he repeatedly knocked him into the wall.

“You’re going to suffer for this,” Louis warned beyond all of the world-stopping pleasure in his body, whining when Harry took his delicious fangs out.

“Really? You’re threatening me? Where do you think that’s going to get you?” Harry scoffed, halting all movement in his hips and snaking his arms around Louis’ torso, content to stand there until his borrowed blood wore off if Louis wanted to be difficult.

Louis seemed to realize he’d made a grave mistake and his struggling came back full force, twisting around to look Harry in the eyes but the Roman was too smart, dodging all possible eye contact so the King couldn’t use his lure. “Stop this! Fucking move!” Louis commanded, beating his fist on the wall so hard he broke through the abused stones.

Harry merely hopped a little to the right, cruelly making sure that the sidestep didn’t involve any pleasurable benefits for the insubordinate Louis he was attached to. “Beg me! Beg for it or you’re not getting shit,” he chuckled flippantly, keeping his spirits light until several seconds went by of stubborn silence from Louis. “I said beg for it!” he restated, bringing his fangs out and hissing in Louis’ ear.

Louis was at his breaking point. He wanted it so bad but giving in to Harry’s taunts was the biggest critical hit his pride would take up until this point. Against every wish he had to keep his true desperation locked inside, he shattered like the vases he’d broken at the mansion, snapped off his base like the railings of the second story, splintered into dust like the coffee table. “ _Please_ , Harry! I’m all yours, please fuck me!” he groveled, unleashing a guttural moan from his throat when Harry held up his end of the bargain and fucked into him repeatedly like the break hadn’t happened.

“That’s a good boy,” Harry purred, soaking in every egotistical merit he received from the successful power play he’d conducted. “Open yourself up for me, come on,” he said, kicking at Louis’ ankles to encourage him to spread his legs.

Louis did without any hesitation, jutting his hips back and arching at a helpful angle, moaning when Harry took ahold of his hips again and rammed into him with just as much fervor as before, except now the Roman was doing it with Louis’ pleasure in mind. 

“Now listen to me very carefully,” Harry said as he dominated Louis’ body, proving himself as its secondary owner with every forceful swing of his pelvis. “You’re going to forget everything that happened here tonight, and you’re not going to mention it again. You’re gonna be _so_ so good for me and pull yourself together until New York, because if you mess up even one more time, do you know what I’ll do?” he asked for the fuck of it, not caring if he got a response because he would tell him anyway.

“Hmm,” Louis tried to respond, his throat scratchy and overused from all the screeching he'd done.

“I’ll never give you what you want again. You have another fucking psychotic breakdown, I won’t spend _any_ time on you. I’ll fucking _leave you_ ,” he seethed, doing his best and thankfully setting Louis on edge, right where he wanted him.

“Lies,” Louis bit as confidently as he could, biting his lip and drawing black blood from it when Harry wrapped a hand around his throat and dug his claws into the side of his neck.

“Are they?” Harry challenged hatefully, doing an amazing job with his performance because he needed this to sink in. “Are you willing to take that chance? I waited centuries for you; do you honestly think I need you around me all the time? What if I got _used_ to you being gone?” he growled as he sped up his hips, skin slapping against skin as he chased the beginning trailer of his orgasm.

“That’s really harsh,” Louis sobbed, full on crying from the torturously addictive slide inside his walls and the heartless horrors of Harry’s words.

“Tell me you’re done killing! Tell me you’ll obey me!” Harry bellowed without room for intelligent refusal, letting go of Louis’ neck and yanking his head back by his hair instead to lock eyes, potential lure be damned—Louis was in no condition to use that anyway. “Swear it and you can come,” he cooed as he rested his lips against Louis’ cheek, softly kissing the skin wet with tears.

“F-fuck, o-okay! Okay!” Louis conceded, nodding his head and bouncing up and down on his tiptoes, opening his mouth and extending his fangs to get what he needed most.

“Swear it!” Harry repeated, almost coming without Louis just to teach him a lesson.

“I swear! Do you hear me? I fucking swear!” Louis cried in fury, darting out when Harry accepted his answer and presented his wrist to him. He bit hard and sucked that blood for all the miracles it was worth, immediately overtaken by the orgasm that been laughing at him from behind its impenetrable fence this entire time.

Harry lost it at the mere sound of Louis falling apart, burying himself in the King’s body as deep as he could go and coming so hard he saw stars, gasping as Louis sliced his wrist by accident, and catching him as he began to fall. He pushed Louis back against the wall and strived to find his breath again, the two equally spacey and overwhelmed from the preceding sequence of events.

“Zeus, what that really necessary?” Louis griped, wiggling in discomfort when Harry slipped out of his hole, yearning to have that stretch back immediately.

“You were acting like a monster...I had to treat you like one,” Harry panted, tucking his cock back into his pants and sniffing as he fixed his disheveled hair.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I just kinda lost it for a second,” Louis admitted, letting the full weight of what he’d done crash down around him now that his muddled mind was drastically lucid. “Shit, I _really_ lost it,” he muttered, jumping as he pulled his jeans up to his waist, valiantly ignoring the slow drip of Harry’s release from his aching hole.

“Let’s get you back to the bus,” Harry sighed, stepping up to Louis and gently easing him into his chest so he could lift him up by the thighs.

Louis grumbled and hooked his ankles around Harry’s lower back, resting his cheek against the Roman’s shoulder and throwing his arms over to have somewhere to put them, keeping his eyes open the entire time Harry raced five miles east, staring hard at the two yellow lines in the road’s center that seemed to stretch on forever.

Eventually Harry caught sight of the bus and he slid across the dirt to stop at the door, slapping it open and walking the weakened Louis up the steps, coming into an environment where almost everyone was slightly afraid of the King, even if they tried to hide it or act like they weren’t. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” he assured, sitting down in their usual spot with Louis still hanging onto his body and timbering onto his side, pushing the Macedonian down into the seats of the couch. “Will someone drive already? He’s safe now,” the Roman snapped at the speechless and dubious members of his family, happy when Martin finally broke the stalemate and rushed to the driver’s seat. “Zayn, section this part off and go sit in the back.”

Zayn let Niall take Eden to the back where Marley, Erakus, and Tanner combined were standing protectively in front of Josiah because he belonged to all of them and they were responsible for his life, the Pakistani furthermore untaping two of the curtains to give the Elders their privacy, giving Harry one final look of understanding before he let the last fall completely.

Harry flipped Louis and himself over, leaving the King on top so he could momentarily feel less controlled. That is until he licked his two middle fingers on his right hand and shoved it under the back of Louis’ jeans, quickly reaching the warm hole he loved so much and nestling the digits inside of it before Louis could get away.

Louis flinched in defense and then went limp, his full weight crushing down on top of Harry as he let himself get breached for the second time this night. “You’ve made your point,” he whimpered, his breaths puffing out of his lungs as Harry fucked his fingers in and out of him.

“This is for fun,” Harry purred into his ear, flipping Louis’ attitude on the topic like a coin.

“Don’t stop,” Louis pleaded as he gripped Harry’s shirt, somewhere in the back of his mind recalling an earlier conversation they’d had that involved those words.

Harry chuckled and let his other hand crawl up Louis’ shirt, lifting him by the back of his neck to crash their lips together because up until now, they hadn’t had much time for kissing. The lips of his lover were wet and heavy against his own, tongues lazy as they rubbed across each other, both immortals breathing into each other’s lungs.

After he needed to breathe the actual air, Harry broke the kiss and let Louis fall back down into the crook of his neck, quickening the pace of his fingers as he grinded their erections together behind the strangling confines of their jeans. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not stopping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HATE SEX !!! Gods, if he's uncontrollable now, can you fucking imagine what New York will be like? Can you? No, sweet Jupiter, it's gon be a bloodbath. I love Eden, he's a precious little bean aww man. Up next: more woes of cramped road trip, and maybe stuff and things? Haha I'm an asshole. See you soon!


	23. To The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Endless Lovers, did you SEE what I did there...alright well, here's Wonderwall.  
> Nahh okay SO, to anyone concerned over polyamory between Harry, Louis, and their little Eden, and are afraid this story will not be endgame Larry, I beg you to just take a breath, relaaaax, and trust me. See what happens, alright? Let's not jump to any conclusions :)  
> Secondly, I made a Love Endless youtube playlist if this interests you. Strictly Love Endless paraphernalia—it has everything that either has been mentioned, has been played, played in the background even though I didn't keep mentioning it, things that PERTAIN TO THINGS? like...or uh..yeah. It's like the soundtrack to the story. In somewhat numerical order of their appearances. SOMEWHAT, SHIT. Imma keep adding to it and stuff as we go, and yeah. A vast majority of you will not listen the fuck outta this, but here, idc: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIagBiupvs1gEW8ABk4jxCVOkSXlQM06T  
> To that small percentage that do want it.
> 
> I made a spotify one with the same shit, but it's my mom's account and I think she'd be put off if hella people knew her full name xD So youtube will have to do. Apologies. 
> 
> Thirdly, all of my plans for one chapter keep ending up as two, so LO FUCKING L at that time I said this was gonna be between 20 and 22 chaps. Absolutely not. I just...so much shit always happens that takes up hella word count and I try to keep them all at the sameish length, cuz I've previously been a wanker dunce about that and OH, FUCK. JUST READ THE DAMN CHAPTER.

Out of all the gross things that Louis could wake up to, this was the worst.

“Morning, sunshine,” Zayn murmured at Niall to be ironic, the two of them stretching awake and making obnoxious giggling and cooing sounds at each other.

“Eight o’clock,” Niall yawned, the sound of languid kisses filling the air. “Start up the bus, Mr. Driver. We’re close to the Wyoming border, we should get there in like...fifteen minutes,” he said groggily, the curtains shifting as Zayn taped them back to the ceiling.

“See you're up,” Zayn noted to an unknown recipient, more shifting sounds of clothing against couch seats permeating the air.

“We've been up for a little bit,” Marley drawled in his rich Aussie accent, accompanied by the scandalized chuckle of Erakus.

“Where are we going now?” Josiah slurred, obviously still inebriated from someone's bite chemicals.

“East, our dear Josiah. East,” Zayn quipped, slipping on his shoes and tying their laces, then crossing to the front and creating a cacophony of slapping paper sounds as he looked at the maps. “Crossing Wyoming, if we _only_ make the _necessary_ stops, will take about six hours. So we'd get to Nebraska, in theory, by two in the morning. Nebraska will take...closer to seven hours to cross...so we'll have to stop somewhere in Nebraska next,” he informed.

The fierce rumble of the bus waking up vibrated the couches, thereby annoying the shit out of Louis, who was trying his hardest to pretend sleep so he didn't have to face the world, and he was now close to giving up. He would have kept his eyes shut regardless and _maybe_ fallen back asleep if he was lucky, but Harry’s affectionate stirring behind him lifted his consciousness too high up to get back underground.

“Are you awake?” the Roman asked in a hoarse whisper, his hand scratching at Louis’ thigh until he realized the limb wasn’t his, transferring the hand to his own leg with an amused chuckle.

“Unfortunately… You have been the laziest tortoise lately, what the hell is the matter with you?” Louis grunted, twisting around in their spooning position and touching their noses together. “You’ve been sleeping like a house cat.”

“I’m feeling attacked,” Harry replied with one eye cracked open, frowning at the confrontational Louis and wondering if he’d have to smack down on him any harder.

“I’m just saying, for being older than you, I certainly don’t lumber around like a sloth all night—”

“Are you being _intentionally dense_?” Harry barked dubiously, forcing himself to sit up, consequently making Louis scramble for balance. He noticed Eden was lying on the opposite couch and just sort of staring at them but he couldn’t address that yet. “You got a brand new body, you prissy Princess. You don’t get to talk to me about age, Elder status or not, you’re as spry as a teenager. Me, I’ve been carting this dusty old thing around since 76,” he said, a hand sweeping down the length of his frame to illustrate his body represented the ‘dusty old thing.’

“Yeah? Well my mind has been around _centuries_ longer than your chalky suit, but do you see _me_ refusing to think because my consciousness is _tired_?” the King challenged, holding his ground even though he realized he hadn’t laid the soundest argument.

“What kind of logic even is that,” Harry muttered with narrowed eyes, shaking his head and throwing his shirt back on that had been removed at some point during the previous night.

Louis rolled his eyes and turned to scope out everyone else, noticing some averting their eyes, and scoffing at their shyness. “Alright,” he announced, standing up and walking to the center of the bus. “It has come to my attention that I committed a crime against our society last night. Yes, I regret exposing our kind to humans like a predator. No, I do not regret killing those vampires. Any questions?” he asked, playing a little guessing game in his head to predict who would speak first.

“It's fine, Lou...it was just kinda scary,” Niall admitted, looking Louis in the eyes with an expression of love to show no serious harm had been done.

“It's who we are, Ni,” Louis said, pointing a thumb back at Harry. “We're not good vampires, we just somehow ended up on the side of the light. I'm from a time when actions like that didn't matter because any witness accounts would be word of mouth. But I know that electronic camera recorders exist now and I shouldn't be so reckless in case I end up in the news for murder...again…” he added, thinking of that one news station in Northern Cali that had assumedly shown a broadcast of him being carted into jail.

“You and Harry seem good to me. You've led this whole group perfectly and we’re all fully functioning because of you,” Niall negated, figuring that Louis was being somehow modest or understating their righteous qualities. Of course he knew the two were thoughtfully planning out a slaughter, and he'd heard some questionable things uttered between them, but he couldn't help defending their kind and considerate traits.

“You think highly of us in the wrong way,” Louis assured, lightly taking ahold of Niall’s messy blonde hair and knocking their foreheads together. “We're big and scary Elders, and that is why you should idolize us. Not because we're ‘protagonists’ with good leadership skills,” he laughed, dabbing at his imaginary tears.

“Whatever, Louis. You're still my best friend,” Niall huffed, throwing his arms around the King and smiling when the hug was returned.

Louis let himself relax in Niall’s arms, grinning when he opened his eyes to find full support and acceptance on his friends’ faces. At least he wouldn't have to win everyone back and rebuild crumbled trust—how taxing that would have been. His eyes drifted to Josiah slouching under Tanner’s arm and they widened in shock when he saw his unhealthy pallor. “What the fuck!” he shouted, twisting out of Niall’s arms and stomping over to the human.

“What?” Tanner asked, cringing the closer the fuming Louis came to him.

“How long has he been like this?” Louis demanded, crouching down in front of Josiah and listening in on his pulse, pressing his hands against the human’s face and trying to meet his droopy eyes.

“I woke up to Tanner struggling to stop,” Martin nervously responded.

“And you fools didn't wake me up?” Louis countered, meeting Harry’s eyes and giving him a look that said “We can't take them anywhere.”

“I got him to stop,” Martin reasoned, considering that a good enough reason to leave the Elders alone while they're sleeping. “Josiah isn't close to death, he's just weakened,” he noted to further his case, getting dragged off the couch by an unimpressed Harry.

“Front of the bus. Now,” the Roman said, knowing damn well what was about to happen. “Marley and Erakus, you guys too. And Niall; all of you go to the front,” he commanded, orchestrating the migration and gently pushing everyone to go faster when they passed by, then lastly carrying the incoherent Josiah away from the scene.

“You’ve been a fucking problem,” Louis snarled to Tanner, fisting his shirt and pulling him to his feet, pushing him back and advancing on him as he stumbled for grounding. “I’ve spent a stupid amount of time on you. You’re high-maintenance, you’re entitled, and you’re starting to become a real pain in my fucking ass,” he growled, slapping Tanner across the face for the second or third time, he can't remember. “If you don’t get your fucking shit together, I’m going to throw you right out of this bus!”

Martin started to step forward in protest of that last part but Harry blocked his stride, trying to implore with his eyes that he needed to stay quiet and wait for them to be done. The butler pursed his lips but nodded, sitting down on the couch and giving up adding himself into the mix.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying, okay? I have needs!” Tanner cried, outstretching his arms and begging Louis to understand what he was going through.

“Needs...needs! NEEDS?! _You think I don’t have needs_?” Louis roared with unfiltered rage, his every button pressed and stuck in the inward position because he’d been skewed off his harmonious tracks. “Do you even know who you are talking to? What I have been holding back since the moment of my turning? The kind of experience I have? How that experience and knowledge makes my abstinence so much harder than yours!” he screamed, punching Tanner in the jaw so hard he was launched through the air and pelted into the back wall.

Tanner groaned as he fell onto everyone’s bags and suitcases, quickly recovering and jumping off of them before he broke something. He opened his mouth to apologize further but Louis was already on him again, kicking his feet out from him and pushing him down on the floor.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen,” Louis hissed, standing over Tanner’s vulnerable form and giving him a vicious glare, his upper lip scrunched to display his fully extended fangs. “I don’t consider you worthy of Josiah at all, in any way, in any form...but if you can handle me for thirty seconds, he’s all yours. Not my responsibility. I won’t care if you kill him. I’ll just throw you out. And Martin will inevitably follow you. And Harry will lose his cherished butler. Do you want that?” he shouted choppily, stepping away and motioning for Tanner to stand.

“What do you—what do you mean handle you for thirty seconds?” Tanner whimpered, seriously doubting that he could withstand getting savagely beaten for half a minute.

“I mean hold your own for thirty whole seconds. Harry, open the doors,” he said to the Roman somewhere behind him, grabbing Tanner’s shoulders and switching places so that Tanner was between Louis and the door on the other side of the bus.

“What’s happening?” Tanner asked again, close to real panic when Harry pulled the lever, thereby opening the door of the still moving bus, and guided everyone on the couches to make room for...for whatever.

“I’m going to try and throw you out of this bus. If I win, you don’t come back. If you hold your own, I apologize and we hug for five minutes,” Louis said with a shrug, already hoping that Tanner avoided the first outcome because he really did love him. But there was a lesson to be learned here. And Louis was the good-intentioned but completely heartless sensei.

“That's all I have to do is stay in the bus?” Tanner clarified, forcing himself to  acquire a mindset of determination rather than hopeless defeat.

“You say that like it's easy,” Louis chuckled, nodding to Harry to start the countdown.

“Just...do not destroy this bus,” Zayn pleaded from the driver’s seat. “That will make everything so much worse.”

“Five.”

“No promises,” Louis called back, stretching his arms across his chest as Tanner audibly gulped. He would not use every morsel of his strength—that would end this too quick—but he was going to give Tanner a run for his money.

“Four.”

“What if we _do_ destroy this bus?” Tanner asked Louis, hopping between his two feet to get his (Josiah’s) blood circulating.

“Three.”

“You let me worry about that,” Louis brushed, confident that he could keep their brawl within the boundaries of the aisle.

“Two.”

“If this all goes wrong...I’m really sorry and I’ll regret it forever,” Tanner sniffed, refusing to cry when such a glorious battle of worth was set to take place in one more blasted second.

“Then don’t let it go wrong,” Louis said, licking at his fangs and bending down to propel himself into the baby vampire and forcibly remove him from the bus.

“...One.”

Louis let out a roar and flew forward, aiming low to take Tanner out by the hips. He was minorly impressed but mostly just annoyed when Tanner decided to leap skyward, missing his reach by an inch before Louis had the chance to try and redirect it. He caught his feet and flung him back down onto the carpet, trying to keep the force to a semi-human level so he didn’t send him _through_ the carpet.

Tanner whined when Louis got on top of him and started salivating all over his neck, knowing that if those fangs pierced him, it was game over. He lurched sideways and elbowed Louis in the temple, wrenching one of his knees up to kick the Elder in the stomach and try to stand again.

Louis let the kick happen because it didn’t hinder him in any way, even more helpfully letting them both rise to their feet and have a clean slate. He flashed to the vampire the moment he had regained his balance, and they slid across the carpet at least three feet from the inertia of the collision before Tanner rooted himself and pushed back.

Tanner’s arms had crossed in front of him to brace himself for Louis’ assault, and Louis’ hands were wrapped around his forearms, both struggling in an inverted game of tug-o-war and walking each other back and forth when one experienced a random burst of energy.

“Twenty seconds!” Harry called from his standing position on the couch, his eyes glued to the match like a referee, expertly separating their vampiric speed from the human counting rate of time.

Louis grinned and let his hands fall to his sides, throwing the leaning angle of Tanner off kilter and stealing his support. As Tanner unintentionally fell forward, Louis struck out and punched him square in the chest, sending him back another three feet and nearly parallel with their audience. He leapt after him and shot his claws out in mid-air, hissing as he descended on his victim and dove for a place to sink his teeth into.

At the last second, Tanner curled his lower body up to his chest, the soles of his shoes pointed at the ceiling to kick Louis off when he was close enough in range. He thought it was a brilliant plan until he kicked too early, his depth perception sorely off from all the adrenaline that was fuzzing his vision.

Louis straightened himself vertically and grabbed onto Tanner’s shoes, performing a perfectly composed handstand with Tanner’s feet like gravity wasn’t even a factor, smirking down at him while he appeared suspended in time for one awful moment.

“Ten seconds!”

Louis then shoved Tanner’s legs too far apart for the baby vampire to instantly recover from and fell down onto his pelvis, sinking his teeth into the side of his waist and humming in victory as Tanner screamed out in distracting ecstasy.

He planted his feet onto the ground and wrapped his arms around Tanner’s hips, sliding them across the floor toward the steps and bypassing the shell-shocked members of their family. He kept his neck bent at that awkward angle under Tanner’s ribcage to see where he was taking them, and the bitten vampire was slowly coming back to a low form of his senses, widening his glossy eyes when he was knocked down the first step.

“Five seconds!”

“Shit—no,” Tanner gasped, his nails scratching at and embedding themselves within the sides of the stair corridor, kicking his feet and digging his heels into the upper level carpet. He arched his neck to look behind him and fearfully stared at the blurred watercolour painting of the outside world, letting out a guttural scream of strained effort to stay when he fell down one more step, only one step now between him staying with his family or going back to Harlock’s—

“Time’s up!” Harry called, hopping over and smacking at both of them to get them out of enemy-mode, grimacing when Tanner raked his nails further down the walls as he dropped his hands.

Louis released Tanner’s flesh with an inward heave for oxygen, immediately pulling him away from the opened door as Harry shut it just to be safe. “You did it,” he wheezed, crushing Tanner into his lap and kissing at his cheek.

“That was...you really would have thrown me out, wouldn’t you?” Tanner whined, throwing his arms around Louis’ back and sniveling into his neck.

“Shh,” Louis hushed, giving long pets down Tanner’s back and pampering him with an overload of affection to reverse the emotional damage he’d inflicted. “I’m sorry, Tan. I’m so sorry. You must have been so scared, I’m sorry,” he rambled, handing him off to Martin when the butler came up and snatched him away from the Elder.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Tanner assured to his worried lover after he'd ceased his blubbering, holding his hand out for Louis to shake and put an end to their differences.

Louis shot further out than Tanner’s hand and grasped his forearm, encouraging Tanner to do the same and grinning when they were both stood squeezing each other’s forearms like any two respectable Greeks would. “I know you’ll treat Josiah very carefully now. And when we reach New York, all of us will be free to do as we please,” he comforted, needing to remind both Tanner and himself that New York was still a thing to consider. It was still happening.

“I promise! And thank you for giving me the chance to defend myself against one so Great,” Tanner professed, crossing his free arm over his chest and bending in half, giving Louis’ hand a quick kiss.

“Well that was exciting,” Harry contributed, leading Louis away from the baby vampire and back to their seat. It wasn’t that anyone was still worried over what might happen between the two of them; it was that Harry and Martin were now at odds with one another and they wanted their lovers away from _each other_.

“Well what are we going to do with Josiah so compromised?” Marley whined, his ability to fuck Erakus ignorantly staying at the top of his list of priorities. But if you had Erakus all to yourself, you’d understand.

“You stay dead,” Louis answered without sympathy, pausing what would be more scolding to taste the air, in sheer disbelief at what he detected. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You know, sometimes I think the Gods you always talk about are real,” Zayn breathed to second him, beckoning the passengers to the front of the bus to peer through the window...at three human hitch hikers on the roadside.

“Thank Hermes,” Niall said, impressing both Harry and Louis with his trivial knowledge.

“Do we take them?” Harry asked after shooting a wink to the pleased Niall, checking Louis’ profile to see if his expression was affirmative or not.

“You would have these innocent humans live homeless? Shivering themselves to sleep on these unforgiving streets? Of _course_ we take them. Zayn, pull over,” he said, kicking the door lever and hopping down the steps to hang out of the gradually slowing vehicle and make himself known. It was obvious that all the reasons he’d given for taking the humans in were absolute bullshit, but the like-minded _vampires_ in his company didn’t mind the dishonesty in the slightest. In fact, they were rather on the same page.

“Hey!” the tallest boy with in the group with long brown dreadlocks called while he flapped his arms every which way, the equally haggard boy with the greasy auburn locks and the straight black-haired girl with him gathering their lumpy bags into their arms.

“Going anywhere?” Louis called, smirking at the trio as the bus crawled to a stop.

“The Civic Center in Baltimore, Maryland. There’s a Dead concert on the 26th we’re tryna get to. You goin’ that far east?” he asked, crossing his fingers in plain sight.

“You’re in an uncommon amount of luck. We’re going to New York,” Louis laughed, causing the boys to jump for joy, while the girl in the group shoved past them and locked her wide eyes onto Louis in concentration. Louis looked straight into her big hazel orbs and dragged his gaze downward, smiling like The Grinch when he saw the multiple bite scars on her neck. “You could tell, could you? What I am? Well—at least one of you won’t be surprised,” he mused, smirking at her because she spoke a language her companions didn’t and was currently screaming sentences to Louis without making a peep of sound.

“What’s up with you, Daisy?” the dreadhead asked, looking between his newly acquired road buddy and their potential ride.

The girl called Daisy raised a hand to her neck and fingered at the old bites marred on her skin, unable to think about anything besides the heaven of what these creatures of night could do with their mouths. “We’re going with them,” she said surely, walking with purpose to the bus and taking the stranger immortal’s hand, prepared to say her final goodbye’s to her friends if they wanted to stay behind, but with The Grateful Dead on the line, there’s no way they would refuse.

Louis nodded and took her dainty hand in his, helping her up the steps while the other boys shrugged and followed along. “Good choice,” he whispered into her hair, assisting the other boys and closing the door, nodding at Zayn to keep driving now that the three fresh humans were boarded.

“I’m Daisy, this is Patrick, and the dreadhead is Dave,” she introduced, her eyes glued to the two boys dressed like anarchists behind the small congregation of strangers. She was literally the only girl here and was at first way too nervous about that, but a lot of the boys seemed to be paired off with each other, so that was comforting.

“You have some explaining to do to these boys, Daisy,” Louis laughed, taking his Roman lightly by the hair and walking him to their designated couch on the passenger side wall closest to the door. He cared not for these new humans and beckoned Eden over to him, patiently waiting for Daisy to let her friends in on their secret so they could act natural.

“After that, you’re ours,” Erakus said to her with an impish grin, throwing his arm around Marley’s shoulders and licking his lips at the speechless girl.

“So talk quickly,” Marley added, confusing the boys named Dave and Patrick to unbelievable degrees while simultaneously jarring Daisy right into action.

“Alright, come here,” she said to her comrades, pushing them onto a couch and standing over them while they looked up at her in guarded wonderment. “I have to tell you something and you’re just gonna have to…” She paused, debating how blunt she should actually be in this situation. She looked around at the vampires and caught the hungry gazes of the black haired and Australian ones, and her mind made itself up. “Okay, these guys are—”

 

\---

 

“I regret everything,” Louis grumbled, having been stuck listening to the sounds of fervent moaning no matter how hard he’d tried to tune it out. It had been a long half-hour. What started out as your classically average “No way, get real, get bent, those don't exist, holy shit look at those teeth” rants had turned into the equally predictable “I still can't believe this, this is far out, how come not everyone knows” comments, and Louis had rolled his eyes through every overplayed expletive.

When it came to getting their first bite, Dave and Patrick had politely refused, spouting off a bunch of promises that concerned their heterosexuality, much like the cock-gobbling Erakus and Marley, but that phase died off quickly. For when Daisy explained to them that a vampire bite got you _high_ and that said high was better, sweeter, and more powerful than reefer, liquor, and coke combined, the teenage boys switched into gay-for-pay mode like it was their career, and they nearly broke their necks in offering.

After Marley and Erakus took Daisy, Tanner and Niall had descended on the boys like a pack of wolves, and the humans’ fun-seeking faces had immediately gone slack with perfect rapture, gasping in happy surprise that Daisy hadn't been exaggerating even a smidge. Since then, the drunken celebrations had raged; Harry had taken over driving to let Zayn have his well earned fun, Eden had been placed upon the Roman’s lap by Louis as a consolation prize to bite as desired, and the King himself had chosen to hold onto his maturity and watch over everyone in case they got too stupid.

The shrieking laughter, deafening exclamations, and lengthy sessions of enlightened gushing were starting to—had long since been—getting on the King’s nerves, though. Maybe he was a tad jealous of their youth and blissful ignorance of the world around them, like he'd been as a human, but mostly he was just annoyed.

In light of having nothing to do, he let his thoughts wander to Auron. Yeah, he knows. Not the best object of his consideration, but it's not what you think. He found himself thinking about what Auron had been patiently building this whole time, right in the corner of his and Harry’s eyes, and how they hadn't seen him slip once. Louis especially. Auron hadn't ever won Alexander over with his innocent and conscientious words, because the murders of Hadrian’s Antinous, Sabina, Damianos, not to mention their parents had always stayed in his mind. Hadrian easily forgave, and that was his problem—Alexander _never_ did, and that was also a problem, but that's another matter entirely.

Of course, Hadrian had never let Alexander’s death go, because their love had transcended beyond his human and first interspecies relationships, but still…

Louis’ just bringing it up to mention that even though he'd never _once_ trusted Auron, or let him into his heart, he still hadn't uncovered Auron’s true and most villainous intentions. Coming after Hadrian was an obvious one but the world? The human race? How had Auron, the immortal who brags about himself more than Alexander (that's saying something), kept every whisper of his plans in the dark?

How had he lived this double life with such poise whilst rooming with both Hadrian and Alexander for all those years? How had he been drinking blood with them and clapping along to Hadrian’s guitar strumming by the fireplace while simultaneously orchestrating and controlling every predator group across the world? How had he poured his heart out to them and expressed tear-jerking regret over his past deeds, declaring his plans for widespread humanitarianism within their species while his mind was swimming with the opposite ideals...while going behind their backs and wreaking havoc on the very world he'd sworn to protect?

It didn't make sense. Auron is the most vile, treasonous, and untrustworthy gorgon to ever slither upon this earth, and with the partnership and support of the only immortal in known existence who could single-handedly take Harry down made him the worst thing to cross Louis’ path too. Louis had never hated anything more.

Auron could kill Louis a thousand times but threaten Harry? Put his very existence in danger? No. Louis will never, in all of eternity, _ever_ , let that happen. He will jump in front of Harry every single time. Sacrifice himself as much as he needs to; he will never let Harry take that fall.

“What are you stressing about, Lou?” Harry asked, meeting Louis’ eyes from the giant rearview mirror. “I can hear your mind whirling from here. And you've got that look on your face…”

“Louis, are you okay?” Eden asked sweetly, peering over his fingers that were curled around Harry’s shoulder. He'd thought it was cute at first that Harry knew his lover so well to ask out of the blue, but he'd gained a sense of propriety when he’d focused on the insinuation of the words. Louis was unhappy.

“I'm fine, little one,” Louis sighed unconvincingly, causing Eden to wiggle off of Harry's lap and stumble over to Louis’ instead, cuddling into him to offer the only support one powerless human could. “I said I'm fine,” he chuckled, coiling his arms around Eden’s frame and burying his face in his thick black hair.

“Everyone says they're fine when they're not,” Eden contested shyly, holding Louis’ head to him and rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Chinese. Stuff like this is the epitome of my culture. It's a classic move of modesty to evade something you don't wanna talk about, but you're better off just saying that instead. Saying you're fine will only set off alarms to the contrary.”

Louis was stunned. The intelligence of the human he'd picked proved his choice a worthy one in itself, but the eloquence in which that astute mind delivered its notions really added flavour to the whole package. “I thought you were an orphan,” Louis chose to say above all else he could.

“I had a lot of Chinese friends with _big_ Chinese families. They showed me the ropes,” Eden explained, smiling bashfully into Louis’ studious eyes as they stared at each other. “And you're deflecting.”

Louis snorted at that and leaned back against the couch, meeting Harry’s amused eyes in the mirror and rolling his own, absentmindedly playing with Eden’s hair as he gazed at his neck. “You wanna be a psychologist?” he murmured, checking Eden’s reactive facial expression to the snappy remark.

“Sure,” Eden quipped bravely, pushing his hair to one side to expose the area he knew the vampire was admiring by nature. “I'll be yours. Let’s start with you telling me your darkest desires.”

Louis laughed boisterously at the audacity of that line and he bit his lip to quiet down, his hand sliding up Eden’s clothed spine to reach the nape of his neck, slowly reeling him in. “You're bold. I like you,” he said, preparing his fangs for the act Eden was so flirtatiously requesting.

“I-I like you too,” Eden stuttered, holding his breath when the vampire pulled him close enough to have access to his neck, dragging those cold lips across his skin until he made a decision and broke through the surface with those sharp teeth. Eden’s memory gets fuzzy after that…

 

\---

 

“King Louis?” Dave asked meekly as he fiddled with his tree-bark dreads, his tone mirroring one would make if they were about to ask their parents for something they would likely be denied.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows when he looked over at the boy. He'd been enjoying the company of Eden with Harry, who had given the driver’s seat back to Zayn, and now every human was crowding in front of him with their heads hung low and their knees knocked together.

“What is it?” he asked, sparing a look to all four humans in front of him, and then trying to meet a distant immortal’s eyes that would explain this.

“We're...we're hungry,” Patrick blurted, slapping his hands over his thin lips because he hadn't planned on being the speaker.

“Aww,” Louis cooed, lifting Eden off his lap and setting him on Harry’s, taking Patrick’s hand and tapping on the back of it. “You were afraid to tell me that?”

“We've just been told kind of intense things about you over the last hour...we didn't know how to act. And they haven't been any help,” he added with a point to Zayn and Martin, who were smirking their faces off at Louis.

“Oh nice,” he scolded to the immortals, letting his chuckle show them that he wasn't actually mad. “Paint me as the evil dictator who needs to be begged for food,” he scoffed, kissing Patrick’s hand and letting it go. “If you guys are hungry, we'll go out to dinner.”

“You're taking us to dinner?” Eden squeaked giddily, swooning over the fact that they'd actually _go out_ like normal people.

“To the nicest place we can find,” Louis crooned, rubbing his nose against Eden’s in an eskimo kiss.

“Will anything be open?” Tanner pondered, checking his watch for the time.

Louis glanced down at Eden’s and nodded his head. “It's only ten forty-three. There will be somewhere,” he assured, following Niall with his eyes as he skittered to the front and looked through the extensive collection of guide maps they'd looted.

“We're in Rawlins, right?” the blonde asked Zayn, who nodded and peered over at what Niall was reading. “Take the next exit,” he said, smiling to himself for his quick thinking.

“What did you pick?” Louis asked, holding onto Eden as the bus slightly veered down a narrow exit lane.

“Ashcreek Roadhouse. Seems decently fancy, and it's open ‘til midnight,” he informed, the humans giggling amongst themselves like children.

“Thank you, King Louis,” Patrick gushed with a huge grin, the humans around him furiously nodding along.

“Don't mention it. If the humans are hungry we must feed them...and drop the ‘King Louis’ shit, that's a different King. Not me,” he added, scrunching his nose in distaste at being referred to as one of the many French Kings he unfortunately shared a name with.

“Then what's your name?” Dave asked curiously, aware that he was clearly missing something here.

“My identity is…” he trailed, deciding to keep a lid on it this time, “...a secret.”

If Harry had taken a sip of water at that time, he would have spat it right back out. “What!” he choked, spluttering to contain his laughter. “Since _when_?”

“I don't always have to brag, Harry,” Louis muttered, turning his chin up in the most snooty way he could.

“Sure, right. Right. But you never haven't,” Harry snickered, dodging the palm that nearly swiped his face.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Louis pressed, huffing as he turned back to his perplexed band of mortals. “Just call me Louis.”

The humans nodded and fell into unrelated conversation, and in five minutes of turning down different avenues, they reached the parking lot for the Ashcreek Roadhouse.

They filed out in an orderly fashion and made their way through the cold (though the immortals didn’t think of it as such) to the front doors, scuttling in when Martin and Zayn held them open. They came into a dimly lit establishment with low-hanging chandeliers, thick cream coloured cloths on the tables, sparkling glassware, and fancily dressed humans.

The man behind the podium looked a little disgruntled that a large party had come in so late, but it was his job to treat them with hospitality and he certainly tried. “Good evening. How many will we be serving tonight?” he asked, too tired to count heads.

Louis looked around at his group in puzzlement, quickly counting the number he didn't know by heart either. “Thirteen,” he snorted, amazed that they'd all been able to coexist inside one old school bus.

The man scrambled to collect thirteen separate menus and juggled them in his arms while he cleared his throat. “Right this way,” he said, leading them down a pathway to the back where they could push three tables together with the least amount of commotion for the other customers.

They all helped set the tables up and took their seats, Louis and Harry putting Eden between them, the others couples playing musical chairs to find open seats beside their respective humans. Once they'd all landed, their menus were handed down, and a new waiter arrived to jot down starting beverages and appetizers. The vampires ordered water they wouldn't drink, and Dave asked for a bottle of wine, showing his I.D. to the waiter and smiling smugly when he approved.

The other humans ordered their favourite soft drink or juice, and a basket of breadsticks, and the waiter scurried off, leaving them alone to talk freely. “I didn't know you were twenty one,” Niall noted to Dave, raising his eyebrows when Dave shot him a wink.

“I'm not,” the boy giggled, sliding his I.D. across the table so they could inspect it. “It's fake.”

The humans gawked at the authenticity of the card; even Daisy and Patrick seemed surprised. “I didn't know you had one of these,” Daisy breathed, her impressed grin puffing Dave’s chest out with pride.

“I have many secrets,” he joked, sparking an unnoticed eyeroll from Louis.

 _Secrets, right,_ the King jeered in his head, training his gaze on Eden’s menu as the boy skimmed through the options. “Aww...I miss steak,” he sighed wistfully, dropping an elbow upon the tabletop and resting the side of his face in his palm as the waiter dropped off the breadsticks.

“I was thinking about getting that...should I not?” Eden asked, unwilling to let Louis suffer in envy as he ate peacefully.

“Don't worry about it, dear. Get what you want. I have _you_ anyway, you're far more delicious than a cow,” he assured, patting Eden on the thigh.

Eden cackled at Louis’ straightforward comment and coughed to recover, nervously glancing around at the restaurant because the volume of his outburst had not been a reserved one.

“You laugh like Harry, love. Never apologize for that,” Louis urged, sharing a wink with his mentioned Roman.

 

\---

 

After eating the last of the bread, the humans had all filled their waiting time with trivial and serious questions directed at the vampires, watching the subject matter they touched on to be extra careful of any eavesdroppers. In doing so, Louis’ identity had inevitably come up, and they were just as staggered as anyone would be in their situation. Everyone knew Alexander the Great.

Eventually the food came and the humans dug in, their vampiric counterparts politely confirming to the waiter that yes, they were _sure_ they didn’t want to order anything. There were two steaks with potatoes, a burger with fries, a soup plate of fettucini alfredo, and a shrimp cocktail on the table, and the humans shared each other’s dishes like they were one big family (which, when bonded by temporarily belonging to the same group of vampires, they kind of were).

Louis stared unblinkingly at an empty wine glass on the table that nobody had filled with their bottle of _1952 Louis Martini Cabernet Sauvignon_ from Sonoma Valley in California, the highest shelf wine this place had, and the longer he stared at the rounded glass without contents, the more detailed and plausible his idea became. “Eden, babe, give me your wrist,” he murmured to his pretty Chinese boy.

“Hmm? Oh here,” Eden said, handing over his limb and watching as Louis extended a claw and gently brought it to his inner wrist. “What are you doing?” he whispered, wincing when Louis made a small incision with his nail and flipped his arm over so the wound pointed down, discreetly rushing an empty wine glass under the table letting his blood drip into the bottom of it.

“Thanks, cat,” Louis said softly, waiting for awhile as Eden’s wrist drained, then taking his napkin and pressing it to the cut he’d made. His glass wasn’t even close to halfway full but this catered to his plan. The immortals at the table sniffed the air and zeroed in on Louis, their brows furrowing when they couldn’t see what was happening beneath the surface of the table. Louis smiled secretively and leaned over Eden’s chest to quietly address his Roman. “Harry,” he whispered, suspending the glass over Eden’s lap so only Harry could see it.

“So that’s what you’re doing,” Harry said as he looked down, taking the glass as it was handed to him.

“Pass that around I want everyone’s,” the King said, looking to make himself a cocktail of all the humans here.

“Right away, milord,” Harry snorted, sneakily giving the glass to Martin and Tanner while he cocked his head at Josiah for clarification.

Louis bent down and licked the blood from his claw before retracting it, letting himself zone out as his group did his bidding, and grinning in victory when the glass came back to him via a jealous Erakus, now half-full with precious, life-giving blood. He held it up and admired the dark maroon substance of mixed origins, knocking it back in one shot unashamedly because it looked enough like wine to any possible bypassers.

A rush of vitality blasted through his system so hard that he abruptly stood up, setting the wine glass down with a force that could have broken it and coughing as his lungs momentarily tightened so severely that he couldn’t breathe. He’d never taken in so many different bloods at one single moment (massacres are at least somewhat spread out), and it was rocking his entire world. His heart beat like a jackhammer and he giggled as he held a hand to his chest, slowly sitting back down to the shocked looks of his company.

“That good, huh?” Zayn asked, an intrigued look on his face as he imagined how it felt.

“Why do _you_ get the enjoyment of this entire selection?” Niall grumbled, full of envy to see such a reaction in the broadly experienced Elder and not be able to feel it too.

“Because I'm the evil dictator,” Louis rasped in a voice that was barely his own, his sudden energy equivalent to being on a gram of cocaine...or so he assumed. He’d yet to dabble in a human under the influence of cocaine; he’d only experienced coca leaves—from what he’d heard, cocaine far surpassed the effects of the leaves it came from.

“You finally admit it,” Harry lilted with a tone that oozed with fabricated approval, goading the spun Louis because it was his biggest source of entertainment.

“What?” Louis squeaked, thinking on the words and narrowing his eyes when he understood what Harry had meant. “No, of _this group_...not _Macedon_ , you fuck-face!” he snapped, his euphoria ebbing off into energized aggression.

“I'm just sayin’,” Harry excused with a smirk and a light shrug, very pleased to have hit a nerve.

“Hey, I was _revered_ ,” Louis seethingly declared, leaning over the surface of the table to keep the infuriating Harry in his sights at all times, temporarily forgetting that anyone else was here.

“Tell that to the Persians,” Harry scoffed, busying himself with the folded napkin that had been set for him for the food he wouldn’t order.

“The Per—” Louis started to shout before cutting off at a dead stop, taking a deep breath to try that again in a quieter tone. “... _Really_? Before _I_ came along, the Persians were savages. I saved that entire Empire when I made it mine,” he insisted, his fists clenching on the tablecloth so he wouldn’t extend his claws and strike out for Harry’s throat.

“Do you have any idea how _fucked up_ that sounds?” Harry accused, finally twisting around to meet Louis’ furious expression, not needing to lean as far over the table as Louis had because Eden had long since scooted as far back as he could go.

“Oh whatever, ‘Hadrian the _Trajan-Slave_ ,’” Louis sneered, his upper lip rising over his teeth as he let out an animalistic snarl, outstandingly keeping his inhuman fangs in his gums. “You don't even know what conquering _means_.”

Harry busted up in thunderous laughter, calming himself down and craning his face toward the King while he grinned like Hades. “Oh _really_ , ‘cuz uh...pretty sure I conquered that ass last night.”

“ _Holy shit_!” Zayn blurted, the entire table exploding in uncontainable hysterics. They were all terrified of the potential repercussions for laughing because Louis seemed rather dangerous right now, but they figured that because they’d all done it at once, they were probably safe. Probably.

Louis growled deep in his throat and kept his eyes locked on Harry’s, giving the Roman the most menacing glare he’d ever made on this face. “ _I'm gonna wreck_ _you_ ,” he threatened through clenched teeth, his aura spewing more fiery hatred at his lover than either of them were worth.

The table then settled down and the humans wiped at their leaking eyes, everyone simply beside themselves that they’d personally witnessed such a magnificent burn. They’d all remember that one for the rest of their lives.

Harry seemed wholly unperturbed by the taunt and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and displaying one of his glorious dimples in a tiny smile. “Can’t wait.”

Eden had stayed as still as possible throughout that ordeal, but now that it seemed to be over, he couldn’t help rapidly looking between the two vampires and asking the first thing that came to mind, incurably fascinated with what Harry and Louis’ sex must be like. “Can I watch?”

More hilarity ensued and this time even the King joined in, patting the oblivious Eden on the shoulder while he chuckled into the back of his hand. It almost seemed like he would say yes, but at the last second, all traces of laughter died on his tongue and he zoomed toward Eden’s face, meeting his widened eyes at close proximity and giving a sharp shake of his head. “Absolutely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several things.  
> A) {I'm not renumbering that shit} I hated the Louis and Tanner scene. It made me sad because I love Tanner to death BUT. Sometimes we fight with our friends. Maybe not to that extent, but sometimes we honest to Jupiter hate them, and things get ugly. They're fine now, but shit just doesn't always go smoothly between people....and vampires take it to a whole other level.  
> 1) Eskimo is a racial slur, and I know that, but Eskimo kisses is a damn term and that's what they did and I didn't know of any other term. I really hope I didn't offend any Alaskans or Inuits.  
> 2) There was literally a Dead show on May 26th at the Civic Center in Baltimore, MD. That's how fucking extensive my research goes. I spent an hour looking up wines just for one mention of the fucking bottle. *forced smile*  
> 3) Louis and Harry are bickering soooo much omg, they're back to their old dynamic of ancient and married lmao. I deffo see another opportunity for bottom!harry arising (no promises either way) so purists be warned.  
> 4) Look up "King Louis" (exactly that) in wikipedia, and scroll down to the last King. You will not fucking regret it.  
> 5) The arrival of Sign Of The Times is mentally destroying me in the best ways, and if I take an extra day to upload the next chapter, YOU KNOW WHY.  
> And now for a fun fact: My most common typo on mobile involves the phrase "The King" in which I 55% of the time write as "The Kong" and I fucking die laughing every time. Second most common is writing "Harry" as "Garry" and I can only picture the meow of the snail from Spongebob.  
> That's all I've got for two more FUCKING DAYS? I'M SORRY? I just...I shouldn't have uploaded before I was done. There's a lesson here... But it's coming, don't worry., ieotfjukfwfewfwedfjhgjdfesgnvjeuhdsjf Jax out.


	24. Almost, You Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bust into the box* "STOP YOUR CRYYYYING BABY, IT'S A SIGN OF THE TIIIIIMES. WE GOTTA GET AWAYYYY FROM HEEEEEERE. WE GOTTA GET AWAAAAYYY FROM HERRREEEE."  
> Ohhhh my what a fantastic fucking piece of art. Harry, you angelic bastard.  
> Alright, in other news, if you remember my last warning at the end of the last chapter, here's your imminent warning once more. Cuz yeah, it happened. Sorry for the lateness, but Harry destroyed me a thousand times, and it was hard to like...focus? Lol. K.

“Where to now?” Dave asked, taking two inner bottom dreads on opposite sides of his neck and pulling them out and around the rest of his hair, tying the pieces in a single knot at the base of his skull to keep everything together.

“East—”

“That _bar_ ,” Josiah pleaded as he pointed across the street, wracked with no guilt whatsoever that he'd interrupted the King.

“A bar? You want to go to a bar…” Louis sighed, rubbing his forehead when the other humans chirped like happy birds at the idea. If he refused, they'd view him as the parent who never let them have any fun. They weren't necessarily on any type of time crunch (if you disregard Louis and Tanner’s—and definitely Harry’s—growing needs for slaughter), and as long as they made it to Pennsylvania by the 26th, their only goal would be met. It was the 23rd.

“Please?” Josiah drawled with an ascending inflection, clasping his hands together and putting a begging gleam in his eyes. “Vodka is to Russians as water is to plants. I'm thirsty,” he emphasized, taking tiny steps backward in hopes that his friends would simply follow. “Been a long time…”

“What are you, an alcoholic?” Louis griped, stepping off the curb and hooking his arm around Harry’s elbow, resting the side of his face against the Roman’s scratchy pea coat as they walked.

“No, of course no. Very much no,” Josiah asserted, throwing an arm around Eden and spinning them to face where they were going. “Plus, I know Eden wants sake, huh?” he guessed, earning small snorts from everyone around. “What?”

“Okay...not only is sake Japanese, and not going to be in that bar anyway, _Eden_ is _Chinese_ ,” Louis groaned patronizingly, astounded there was such a ditz in their midst.

“Oh yeah, Chinese,” Josiah amended, a sudden look of shock striking upon his face. “Eden! Were you okay with American food? Nobody asked you...should we have gone out to sushi?” he whined in sympathy, taking the blame for their inconsiderate assumption that—

“Josiah!” Louis huffed irritably, unable to hold back his entertained laughter. “That's _still Japanese_.”

“Oh…” Josiah hummed, dropping the subject because apparently he wasn't doing himself any favours by speaking.

It was when Eden started politely explaining that he wasn't actually born in China and doesn't fluently speak the language or live by the rules of culture that Louis zoned out, and by the time Josiah had finally gotten it through his thick skull, the group had reached the bar.

The humans ran in first as expected and the vampires sauntered in after them, taking up a nearby table while the humans flocked to the bar. Harry stood as abruptly as he’d sat to join the humans so he could subtly use his lure and convince the bartender they were all twenty one, and then he set up a tab because nobody knew how long they would be here. With all of that out of the way, Harry jogged back and dropped into his chair beside Louis’, pressing their thighs together while he swept the room with his eyes, trying to judge how much scorn they would get at physical contact.

The bar was relatively empty for the hour, and only drunken old men seemed to be present, their long beards falling into their beer mugs as they tried to outrun the hindrances of their tolerance to alcoholic intoxication. The humans stayed at the bar and stirred up quite the commotion, Josiah ordering three rounds of vodka shots for all five of them, and Dave ordering one round of whiskey. Harry had assured them that price was of no issue, and they certainly weren’t holding back.

Marley and Erakus watched in amusement while Daisy did her best to keep up with the boys’ shot-taking pace, spluttering and coughing as she kept knocking them back, only one glass behind them in the end. She then pushed herself off the bar and draped herself over both of their shoulders, and private conversation ensued that had Louis biting his tongue to keep from scoffing.

It didn’t take long for the pool table in the middle of the dingy business to capture the humans’ attention, but for once, Louis found no interest in it whatsoever. His supernaturally improved dexterity and mastered coherence of physics would cause the game to lose a bit of its reward system, and he didn’t see the point in hitting the balls if every one of them would go in by principle.

Hence is why he remained in his immovable spot at the table, barely even watching his group have their fun because his mind was crushing down on him with the most negative of weights—he couldn’t stop thinking about the seriousness of their circumstance, and how they seemed to be doing nothing to advance their safety in the face of it. Here they were, dicking around with humans and eating dinner in a fancy restaurant, filling them with alcohol in a bar; and there Auron was, plotting world domination and Harry’s (not to mention his own) ultimate demise.    

Shouldn’t their priorities lie within that agenda, and not this one of simple pleasures and flippant fun? Is he just a grouch? No, he’s the reasonable one here, no doubt about it.

“You’re sulking again,” Harry said with a smile, laying his cheek down on the backs of his hands atop the table and fonding up at his pensive Louis.

Louis flicked his eyes down and let a smile find his lips, uncrossing one of his arms and running his hand through his Harry’s hair, blowing air from his nose in bemusement when the Roman moaned at the contact. He kept up the movement of his hand in light of that, rubbing up his lover’s cheek into those glorious chocolate locks, untangling some of them when he deemed it necessary. “Not sulking, baby. Just worried,” he said, copying Harry’s position and laying down on his forearms.

Harry wanted so much to tell his love not to worry but he knew nothing useful would come from that. He simply nodded and slid his chair, by default hands closer, taking the fingertips of Louis’ right hand and holding them with his left.

The two stared at each other for a long while, tuning out the sounds of their boisterous family and Lynyrd Skynyrd free-falling from the overhead speakers to take in only each other. They refused to blink or move, slipping into the seas of their eyes and staying trapped in each other’s spell. Both had loved others before they had met—their hearts had been devoted and shattered before...but not quite like this.

Their relationship held the strongest representation of the word “love” that had ever existed. They'd taken that word and created new levels for its meaning; entirely new planes of significance. They'd made that word their own, declared it a personal measurement for their unmatchable connection to each other and since its claiming, no two lovers on earth have come close to its strongest and most visceral definition—none can even try.

“You came back to me,” Hadrian sniffed, always overwhelmed with having his lost love in his life again when he really let himself feel it.

“I couldn't stand the sound of your crying,” Alex explained, trying to play it off that it had annoyed him but they both knew it had done more damage than that.

However, that didn't mean Hadrian wasn't confused. “What do you mean my crying?” he asked, a single defined brow arching above his right eye.  

“The otherworld is a weird place, Haydree. It took me a long time, but I found a way to see down into this one. Of course then it took an even _longer_ time to learn how to track you down. I remember the first time I did, though...I can see it in my head…” he trailed, almost in full refusal to talk about this but Hadrian wouldn’t have it.

“What was I doing?” he asked, a whole plethora of examples coming to mind of things that would have been hard for Alexander to watch from a different world.

“Crying,” Alex sighed, scooting even closer to Hadrian so even their vampiric friends might not be able to hear over the roar of the humans. “You were crying and it was...it was an awful sound. I’ve heard you cry before but that was different. All of those times were different. I hated it,” he muttered, his hand lifting to caress his lover’s face again.

“Those were hard times,” Hadrian admitted, covering Alex’s hand with his own and trying to apologize with his eyes, but he hadn’t been able to help his grief—there was no escaping that.

“Oh and it got worse,” Alex said, his brows cinching together as unwarranted guilt crash over him. He knows it wasn’t his fault that Auron is a murderous bastard, but maybe he should have gone with Hadrian to Italy; maybe he should have more frequently brought up his distrust in Hadrian’s twin—begged the Emperor to see reason and cut their ties sooner. How much longer would they have had? Would Auron still have won in the end? Was this always meant to happen?

“I’m sure it did,” Hadrian agreed, his lips locked in a hard line so they wouldn’t tremble. The past frightens him even more than it saddens him. He’s indescribably terrified of his past after losing Alexander and just the knowledge that it existed gets under his skin. He never wants to feel that way again.

“You went outside close to dawn, and you stormed two miles from that place you were living in. I couldn't tell what country but it looked a lot like Greece,” Alex said pointedly, pausing his recollection so Hadrian could confirm or deny.

“It was. I mean probably. I did go to Greece for a while,” Hadrian said, shame written all over his face because he knew where this memory was going.

“Alright, so I barely need to remind you, but you ran into the middle of a field and laid down in the grass like a stone, and your brainless ass just stayed there as the sun rose. I mean honestly, what were you thinking?” he scolded, kneeing Hadrian with his own because though Hadrian had been going through a rough time, intentionally contracting sun sickness had zero amount of justification. It was pure stupidity.

“I think I just wanted pain,” Hadrian mused, his eyes breaking away from Alex’s and boring into the table instead. “I didn’t know how to feel anything but sorrow...pain, of the physical variety, was different. It was new. I could just focus on that instead and I couldn’t sleep any other way, so it was a win-win…”

“How did you manage to come out of it every time? I learned how to reincarnate myself _pretty quickly_ after that, so I didn’t see much,” Alex informed, recalling his frantic mania upon seeing the state of his masochistic lover. How he’d forced himself into the body of an unborn against all odds. It hadn’t been enough, he hadn’t ever found Hadrian, but his desire to try had been all-encompassing. He couldn’t just sit there in the afterlife while Harry was allegedly trying to off himself (at least doing everything he could to make his existence entirely miserable).

“Something would always come along every time. I don’t know how long I’d be out for, but some animal or human would eventually find me at night. They’d get too close and my body wouldn’t be able to resist their blood even if my mind was nowhere to be found. Then I’d wake up...with really red skin...and walk myself home,” the Roman said with the hint of a smile, though no positive emotions seemed to stem from it.

“Well you’re a fucking idiot, Hadrian,” Alex huffed, planting his lips upon his love’s regardless of present company who could have anything to say about it. Alexander would eat them alive.

Hadrian responded passionately but it was short-lived, pulling back after only a few moments and hiding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he sniffed, trying (futilely) to twist away from his King, but predictably getting yanked back round before he could succeed.

“Don’t apologize for missing me. It would be an insult if you hadn’t,” Alex chuckled, squeezing him in his arms so he had no choice but to accept the attention. “I love you with all my heart, Hadrian. Harry. You are everything and more to me, and I know I’m the same to you...I was hurting too, alright? It was the worst thing I’d ever...we both just...I love you,” he settled on, no eloquent statements available in the storm of his emotions.

“You know...I used to imagine you at my mansion. All the time. I’d think about us running through the maze, you playing the piano, waking up with you in my bed. I drove myself nuts with it, and if it hadn’t been for Martin, I would have been a lot worse off. But...all of those visions and imaginations came _true_ , Alex. I found you playing my piano just like I’d always pictured, and when you turned around—when I saw your face…” he whispered with an awestruck expression, touching the very face he spoke of to prove it real. “You don’t know what that was...what my mind was like...how I...it was _you_. You were _there_ ,” he whined as tears brimmed his eyes, not even thinking to wipe them off as they slid down his cheeks.

“And I’m _here_ ,” Louis pledged, taking Harry’s hand and holding it to his chest, sitting them both up and knocking their foreheads together as they closed their eyes and reveled in the moment.

“You are. You are here. And I can’t bloody believe it, but it’s right in front of me,” Harry laughed, throwing his arms around his treasured mate in eternity and kissing all over his face. “I love you—so much—Alex, Louis, Louixander, my Great, my soulmate, my _ughh I love you_!” he cried, pulling Louixander straight into his lap because he needed all of him at once.

“Hey!” the bartender snapped in disgust, flicking his wrist to point between the two of them like he was batting a fly away from his face. “None of that homo crap in here! Take that shit outside,” he sneered, returning to his glass polishing duties and expecting the boys to leave.

“We’d be happy to,” Louis growled, hopping up to his feet and dragging Harry away by his sleeve. “We’ll be in the bus,” he said lowly to his group, not wanting them to get thrown out either because he had some personal, delicately private business with his Roman.

Harry couldn’t help grinning as he was forcibly removed from the building by his King, but a sudden thought made him stop, the unexpected resistance making Louis stumble and nearly fall. “Wait, wait—”

“What?” Louis grumbled, righting himself and turning around to face Harry.

“What about my tab?” he asked, pointing his thumb back at the building they’d fled.

“What _about_ your tab?” Louis sighed, lightly tugging on Harry’s sleeve to resume the journey.

“Shouldn’t I go close it? Or at least give Zayn the money—”

“Fuck the tab. They can pay for it. And if you really feel that bad, you can pay them back,” Louis compromised, stepping in to close the distance between them and hook his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s jeans. “Now how about you shift your priorities, huh?” he purred, biting his lower lip and pressing their hips together.

“You're absolutely right,” Harry choked, taking the lead and walking /jogging/ Louis to the bus instead.

Once inside the bus, they were left in total darkness (though they could see just fine), due to the lack of the engine being on, which sparked two parallel rows of little lights along the corner ceiling. Harry simply stood in the center without making any sort of move of initiation, and Louis found that odd. He strode up to Harry and was even more surprised to see a look of nerves cross Harry’s features as he glanced downward to avoid Louis’ eyes. “What is it?” Louis cooed softly, rubbing Harry’s arms for comfort. He knew what Harry was getting at; whether it surprised him or not, he didn’t need to ask. He just wanted to hear it.

Harry said nothing and put Louis’ hands on his backside, inviting him to do whatever he pleased as he nestled his face into the crook of his neck. “I don’t want to fight,” he whispered, dainty fingers coming up to slowly remove the buttons of his black long-sleeve shirt.

Louis groped at where his hands had been guided to and then brought them to Harry’s shirt buttons, undoing the rest for him and sliding it off his smooth and marbled shoulders. “Be sure, my Queen. We don't have to fight to give you want you want,” he murmured while he placed delicate kisses on Harry’s chest, causing ripples of tremors to shoot down the Roman’s body.

“I won't be able to come,” Harry breathed in disappointment, dropping his head to watch Louis kneel down and help him out of his trousers.

“Don't you worry about anything, Harry. I'll take care of you,” Louis assured, having more than enough life within him from that cocktail shot to give to Harry when he was ready. Normally an amount of that size wouldn't last this long, but that drink had been composed of an extenuating circumstance.

“We can't break the bus. And they're gonna be done soon. We're on a time crunch,” Harry added in a mumble of quick succession, unable to help throwing out hints of reluctance because willingly giving himself over had never been easy. He'd always tried to make it a challenge to save his pride but the emotional tumble he'd just taken in the bar had consequently dropped his guards. He just wanted his King.

“Then I'll go slow. And I can make you come faster than they can finish another game of pool. And we’re not on a time crunch, we just probably should be,” Louis chuckled as he removed the last article of clothing from his lover’s body, pulling Harry down by the wrist until he fell on his knees, then gently laying him on his back. “Hush those excuses, my darling. They’re baseless and we both know it...I know what you truly want, baby. Stop preventing yourself from enjoying it. Just let me make you feel good,” he crooned, stripping himself to nothing and hovering over Harry’s body, his knees smushed together between Harry’s thighs while they subtly scooted apart to make his goal easier.

Harry stared into Louis’ mismatched eyes and accepted his authority, his back arching when two hands lightly scratched down his front, his legs falling open of their own accord. Louis then hauled his pelvis on his lap as the King sat upright, digging into his side with sharp claws to collect blood. “Whoa, whoa, not my _black_ _blood_ ,” Harry protested; he didn't know why, but he wasn't ever fond with his immortal blood being used for this purpose.

“Quiet,” Louis grunted, stroking his cock with the substance and guiding it to Harry’s entrance.

Harry, once again, interrupted. “You're not even gonna open me up?” he squeaked, grabbing Louis’ forearm to halt his intrusion.

Louis smirked and pushed his supporting hand off the carpet to smack Harry’s away. “Oh, I’ll open you up alright— _Hush_ ,” he said sternly as Harry opened his mouth to complain. “I said I’d go slow.”

Harry frowned but shut up, groaning when Louis ever so slowly pushed his way inside, taking it as slow as promised and giving him more than enough time to adjust before the next inch of him was buried. “ _Jupiter_ , you feel so good,” he rasped, gritting his teeth when the last bit was sheathed within him. “Move,” he pleaded, wholly without a need for any more preparations—like he’d had any to begin with.

Louis smiled and rolled his hips against the back of Harry’s thighs, thrusting into him at a steady and unrushed pace because he was soaking in this feeling, same as Harry. He gripped the Roman’s hips to push in deep and walk his knees out from under Harry’s body, letting him lie flat as he slapped his hands up the carpet to straighten out, leaving his palms just under the billowed fan of Harry’s hair.

Harry wrapped his legs around Louis’ back and reeled him in closer by arms around his neck, propelling his own head off the ground to connect their lips as Louis moved in and out of his stretched walls. “I missed you,” he said for the zillionth time since Alexander’s return, furiously kissing the lips at his disposal because there weren’t any other pair as sweet.

“I was always watching over you, my love. Whenever I died. Always watching. Had to get back—had to be with you,” he panted, upping the pace because it felt phenomenal to do so.

“Mégas!” Harry whined, attacking his love’s neck with his teeth but keeping his fangs in, fearful of the scolding he would receive otherwise. The back and forth of Louis’ hips had him baring his neck in submission with every penetrative thrust, his nails latched onto Louis’ back as he whimpered helplessly.

“I’ve got you,” Louis soothed, licking into Harry’s mouth to keep him quiet, breathing erratically as the reins of pleasure yanked his nervous system every which way, transitioning from smooth sailing to rip currents when he least expected it. Harry continued to moan and whine onto his tongue and he eagerly swallowed every sound, his hands roaming the plains of Harry’s cold skin and mourning that his touch did nothing to warm it up. He would change that soon.

“Lou—Louis. Harder. Please,” Harry begged, unhooking his legs to give Louis’ lower half room to move.

“You just can’t handle gentle, can you?” Louis laughed, throwing Harry’s left leg over his shoulder and angling his thrusts down to slam as deep in as he could get.

Harry wailed from the roughness and propped himself up on his elbows, letting his head loll back as he gasped for pointless breath—this is what he needed. “By the Gods!” he cried, nothing to add afterward because that basically summed it up.

“Look at you,” Louis praised, slapping their bodies together repeatedly and grinning as he did so, the sheer merriment of being inside his Roman taking over his expression. “Look at you coming apart for me. So beautiful like this, _amans_. This vision as a painting would sell a million copies,” he grunted, his thrusts getting harder as his orgasm crept closer.

“Only you have ever seen it,” Harry sobbed, his fangs making an appearance as he watched Louis’ gradual ascension, staring hard at the neck that held the key to set him free. “Let me,” he groaned, the tingling in his groin driving him nuts because he could not satisfy the internal itch, letting his leg fall off Louis’ shoulder to be helpful to his cause.

“Go for it, baby. You earned it,” Louis said, grabbing the hair at the top of Harry’s head and holding it in a fist while he leaned down to grant him access.   

Harry made a small outward gasp as Louis’ new position on top of him brought on a new angle of their connection, his tongue touching Louis’ neck first, then his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he came alive and withstood the brutality of Louis’ consequent thrusts. They were both in unbelievable amounts of ecstasy at the hands of the other, and their vocally deafening climaxes hit like tidal waves, scattering them like bits of loose sand.

After his release, Louis made the tiniest of movements with his hips to keep Harry rolling through his, letting his fist unfurl and his palm smooth over Harry’s forehead. Harry detached from Louis’ neck that he’d screeched into during the course of that momentous and gratifying blip in time, and now he could barely open his eyes, the pair of them leaden and restrained by an unrealistic increase in gravity, like they had miles of water above them, unable to swim to the surface in their current state.

“Thank you,” Harry said in lieu of all the things that may fit the moment better, content to lie there forever until he heard the beginning sounds of the bartender inside kicking their group out of his establishment. “Shit,” he muttered, very much opposed to the idea of dressing himself and leaving this bubble of love and security.

“Fear not, my delectable kitten. This sex will come again. Maybe in a _bed_ this time,” he chuckled, slowly slipping out of Harry’s body and searching around for their clothes, luckily all in one piece, unlike the last time.

“I don’t think you ever once fucked me in a bed, Louixander. It wasn’t really your style,” Harry recalled, truly grasping the accuracy in his statement and cackling as he pulled his underwear and pants on at once. “You’re an actual animal.”

“Beds wouldn’t survive our sex anyhow. Not when I do it, at least. Well...you go hard too. I think we’re meant for floors and grounds,” he supposed, _tsk_ ing in annoyance when their group walked through the bar doors, now only a short walk down some pavement until they’d intrude and ruin their solitude.

“We’re _meant_ for something that doesn't even exist, and that's indestructible material,” Harry said coyly, finally clothed and ready (grudgingly so) for company.

Louis nodded in amused agreement and strode up to Harry as their group approached the bus, reaching around Harry’s hips and yanking him in with a rough smack to his arse, delighted at the look of automatic submission that took over Harry’s face. “Who’s the conqueror now?”

“Hello hello! Hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Zayn giggled to the deadpanned Elders, sending Eden their way because he’d been unintentionally sulking apart from them.

Louis rolled his eyes at the Pakistani but grinned at the flittering Eden, chuckling when he crashed into his chest and squeezed him as hard as he humanly could—which felt like nothing, of course. “Did you miss us? Did we leave you? I’m sorry,” he said, walking him over to the couch while Harry joined to their side.

“It’s okay,” Eden said, nearly melting with happiness at being stuck in-between his two favourite immortals ever. “I won the last game,” he said proudly, out for appraisal because yes, he was impressed with himself.

“You did? That’s wonderful,” Louis cooed, his eyes locking onto Martin and Tanner, who both wore the strongest looks of guilt. “What happened in there?” he asked the butler, aware that Tanner would try to step around the point whereas Martin would jump right to it.

“Tanner got us kicked out,” Martin replied, patting the alleged culprit on the shoulder. “But that’s what happens when you kiss boys in a bar.”

“Did you pay?” Harry asked, still thinking about that damn tab of his.

“No? We got kicked out for kissing; why would we pay?” Tanner scoffed, leaning out of the way when Erakus and Marley had enough standing around and led Daisy down the alley toward the back.

“I agree! Fuck those guys, man. Free love, man!” Dave cried as he spun round and round, his dreads whirring horizontally like one of those giant rubber brushes in conveyered car washes that beat against the frame. Though Louis hasn’t seen one of those since the 60’s—no one had the time in this oil debacle to get their car washed—Dave’s hair was still uncanny.  

“Love is love is love is LOVE—”

“Yes, Dave, you're very progressive, now let's go,” Niall laughed, straightening the human centrifuge out and walking him down the aisle before he made himself dizzy and fell into anyone.

The vampires played deathmatch rounds of roshambo with each other to see who would drive next, and it came down to either Louis or Erakus. They beat their fists into their palms three times and Louis punched Erakus’s paper away with his rock. Erakus groaned but accepted the terms, giving Marley and Daisy each a kiss on the lips and taking the keys from Zayn.

Louis smugly curled back up with Harry and their Eden, and Niall quickly gave Erakus the lowdown on how to get back to the I-80 E highway, laying the maps out on the dashboard and reminding him to voice if he had any questions.

“How long left do we have?” Tanner asked, a quiet and peaceful Josiah draped across his and Martin’s lap, buzzed with vodka.

“To where?” Erakus replied, glancing over his shoulder at his long-time acquaintance.

“I don’t know, until sunrise?” Tanner clarified, figuring ‘until our destination’ was still too far off to judge.

“Well…”

“I got this,” Niall said in light of Erakus’s clueless hesitation, studying his maps and calculating everything in a matter of seconds. “It’s three hours to Nebraska. After that, six and a half hours to Iowa. Four and a half hours then to Illinois. Three hours to Indiana. Two and a half hours to Ohio. Three and a half hours to Pennsylvania. Then from Pennsylvania border to New York, it’s—”

“Back up,” Louis quipped, holding up a hand and shaking his head. “We’re not going to New York from Pennsylvania.”

“We’re not?” Niall asked in puzzlement, glaring at his maps to try and see the issue. “Oh, because...wait where are we going?” he asked, giving up sussing it out himself.

“Well first off, we’re going to New York _City_ , which is straight across New Jersey. So we’re going to Jersey. But we’re stopping in Newark to put Josiah and Eden on a plane. Send them to Harlock’s,” he informed, to the impartial nod from Josiah, and the shell-shocked gasp from Eden.

“What?” the Chinese boy whimpered, rapidly flicking his head between Harry and Louis for an explanation. Surely he’d heard them wrong. “You’re sending me away?”

Louis’ face fell to see Eden’s utter despair, snaking his arms around the defensive boy and holding his head under his chin. “Yeah, babe. You can’t come with us, it’s far too dangerous. We won’t be around to protect you, and there’s no telling what we’ll run into. It is no place for a human as sweet as you,” he said softly, a sympathetic smile turning one side of his lips up when he felt silent tears splash against his collar bones.

“I just thought...I don’t know, I thought we would...we would be together,” Eden blubbered while Harry took his hand comfortingly, hating himself for sounding so desperate and codependent. But he couldn't help it...he’d fallen in love. Harry and Louis had swept him off his feet and his heart had paid the irreparable price.

“Sweetie,” Harry cooed sadly, leaning over to cover the other side of Eden’s body, planting kisses on the back of his neck while Louis scratched at his scalp. “We just don't want to put you in danger.”

“I don't care about danger, I...I love you guys…” Eden confessed meekly, squeezing his eyes shut to futilely block the dam of tears, his throat tickling with the urge to sob.

“Sweet little Eden,” Louis murmured, sharing a look of fond pity with Harry over Eden’s disheveled hair. The boy’s behavior was admittedly pathetic, but it was endearing as all fuck, and the Elder couple were generally contrite to have to break it to him. “It’s not goodbye forever, dove. Harlock is a wonderful individual, and he has a big house in Idaho where humans _and_ vampires coexist, and they’ll take great care of you. I know you’ll find a home there. And Harry and I’ll come and see you, yeah? After our—problems—are resolved,” he said cryptically, hoping the human would just take that at face-value.

“When?” Eden pressed, needing to know how much time he’d have to live without them.

“We don’t know, babe,” Harry admitted, his trickle of kisses on his neck turning to open-mouthed love bites to keep him distracted.

Eden gasped and leaned into it, his mind and body at war with what they wanted to focus on. “But I will see you again? _For_ _sure_?” he mumbled, full on heaving air when Louis’ lips took up the other side.  

“Yeah, you will,” Louis assured, getting his fangs ready and sniffing around for the best new spot. “Hush now,” he whispered, digging into Eden’s skin simultaneously with Harry. Eden screeched and went limp between them, his thighs twitching and spasming as he was conquered by orgasms that seemed opposed to stopping.

“Hey now that we have humans, should we even stop at sunrise? Wouldn’t one of them be able to drive?” Tanner mused, scratching at his chin as he debated the efficacy of that.

Louis pulled out and threw a vicious glare in Tanner’s direction, once again exasperated with his stupidity. “Do you see _any_ human here who is in the condition to—”

“Louis, don’t stop! P-please, come b-back,” Eden groveled, scratching at Louis’ shirt and smacking his arm.

Louis obeyed without a moment’s delay, nestling his fangs in right where they’d been and bringing Eden to yet another completion, rubbing at his chest and patting his stomach conclusively. Both Elders released him after that before they hurt him, letting him catch his breath as Louis picked up where he’d left off with his chastising. “Honestly, Tanner. We’d wake up and this sodding bus would be upside-down. None of them will be driving, no. We’ll stop just like always, but we can’t fuck around tomorrow. No more stops for fun—just gas, food, and bathroom breaks, all of which will happen at the truck stops. We’ll pull off once we’re parallel to Baltimore, and three of you will run these Deadheads to the Civic Center. They can sleep outside with the other early-comers. Also, can I just mention, I’m exceedingly jealous that you get to see The Grateful Dead, and I hope it’s amazing. I fucking love that band,” he added to Dave and Patrick, who were practically vibrating with equal levels of excitement.

“Thanks, man. Do you wanna come with us? Why not? It’s gonna be _so wild, man,_ ” Dave drawled in his typical stoner way; apparently marijuana did not need to be an active factor to make him like this. He just was.

“We can’t be in the sun,” Louis reminded patiently, laughing at Dave’s gutted expression.

“Aww man, that’s whomps! Sun gives us life, you know?” he lamented, realizing he may have taken sunlight for granted more than he’d thought. To suddenly not have it anymore would probably be pretty sad.

“ _Chh_ , right. You’re thinking of _blood_ ,” Louis argued with a devilish wink, snapping his teeth at the transfixed human a little ways down the couch by Patrick, Niall, and Zayn.

“You guys are rad, man. I swear,” Patrick said in awe, a lazy Daisy under Marley’s arm giggling at their statements, causing their faces to turn to her.

“What did I tell you?” she said knowingly, conversations birthing from that which Louis didn’t feel like listening to. He tuned back in to his lover and their loyal pet, laying himself down across Eden’s lap and smiling up at him as the boy reverently stroked his face with warm fingertips.

“I really don’t want to leave you,” Eden said quietly, his eyes following Louis’ arm that reached back behind his head for Harry to entwine his fingers with.

“Sorry, chestnut. But it must come to pass. This was never meant to last forever,” he said empathetically, his free hand carding through Eden’s hair and twisting strands around his index finger. “You should never fall for vampires.”

“How could I—” Eden began, sniffing and wiping at his button nose as he laughed emotionlessly, “—how could I _not_?”

Louis hummed in understanding because as a human, he'd taken to Harry like he'd been shot by Cupid, and though him and Harry had special exceptions to their romantic dynamic, he still didn't need to voice his relation to Eden. Louis’ fortune in love would only make him feel worse.

“You may just find one of your very own at Harlock’s. Believe me when I say the pickings are vast,” Harry chuckled, thinking of all the immortals who would undoubtedly jump at the chance to put Eden’s pieces back together.

“Not like you,” Eden protested with a neutral sigh, trying to convey that though it may be hard, he was working through his sadness.

“Maybe not, but that could be a really good thing,” Harry snorted, invoking a fit of laughter from Louis as well. Yeah—honestly, they were dramatic trash. Too much baggage.

Eden stared between the two and wondered how they could find any faults at all; even when they talked about how terrible they were, when those two gazed at each other, anyone could tell that it was pure love. They were terrible _together_ ; and Eden wanted his own awful partner more than he could ever explain. “I hope I can be the Louis to someone’s Harry,” he said wistfully, looking to the King when he spat incredulously.

“Let’s not get it twisted. The Harry to someone’s Louis. I come first,” Louis said with a wink.

“Actually, we usually come at the same time,” Harry said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows at Eden when the human dropped his jaw.

Louis rolled his head onto his shoulder and shot the blandest deadpan he could at his lover, making it crystal clear he was entirely unamused.

“What?” Harry defended. “You have to admit that was a good one. You left yourself wide open,” he laughed, his head thrown back in hysterics because Louis’ blank stares were infinitely iconic.

“That so? Guess who else was recently _wide open,_ ” Louis shot back deviously, just as proud of himself for his jab as Harry had been.

“You two are incredible,” Eden giggled, his happy smile dimming a noticeable fraction when he remembered he soon wouldn’t be able to tell them that anymore.

“No. No frowns,” Louis tutted, bopping Eden on the nose and jarring him out of his cloud of negative energy. “If the clock is ticking, let’s fill the time to the brim. Savour every moment, starting now. How's that sound, pumpkin?”

 

\---

 

And savor they did. The remainder of that night had been a blur of bites, make-out sessions, and cuddles. The pair had given that boy more orgasms than any of them could count; they made him fall apart until his cock had no more sperm to expel—until he was coming like a female. They’d untaped the drapes from the ceiling and lost themselves in a blur of passion until Eden forgot his name, and they’d just crossed into Iowa by the time they were done, an unfortunate product of the teasing sun.

Being on the time crunch of impending sunrise that they’d been, they’d picked a shabby motel to reside in until it went back down, the four couples getting four separate rooms and tucking their humans between them for sleep, Niall and Zayn getting one human each because they were greedy and there too many to go around anyway.

They’d woken at six in the evening and set back out on the road, alternating the duty of driver more frequently than before because the immortals wanted to spend every last hour with their humans as they could. They’d made only the _necessary_ stops as per Louis’ order, and they’d made it to Berlin Heights, Ohio, by seven in the morning.

They could have stopped somewhere else, but Louis had been adamant about getting as close as they could, and they’d pushed through until Zayn had to physically run away from the driver’s seat and shove Daisy into it instead, and she drove the bus until seven, when the vampires were moments from unconsciousness, and pulled over onto the roadside to join them in the blackened interior for sleep.  

They’d woken at the exact same time as the previous day, at six o’clock sharp, and were able to drive right away because the sun set in the west, and that was behind them. They partied their way across the rest of Ohio and into Pennsylvania, traveling two-thirds of its length and reaching Danville by just after midnight. This is where they’d pulled off and Zayn, Martin, and Harry had strapped the Deadheads to their fronts like koalas and taken off south for Baltimore, to leave them at the Civic Center and come right back. Louis could only imagine their vertigo after that trip.

Louis had lounged in relaxation with Eden in their absence, fiddling with the human’s hair and consoling him when he started to complain about the plane ride again. In light of Louis still having Eden, and Tanner still having Josiah, Niall, Erakus, and Marley had proved relatively calm and quiet about losing their blood machines, and Louis was grateful for their reticence, having been wholly unwilling to handle an entire bus of whines.

The taxi immortals had returned in about an hour, their hair mussed and blown like it had been through a tornado (not far from the truth), and they were eager to get a move on. The bus had roared awake once more, and after acquiring more treasured gasoline, the last leg of the journey had commenced. It had taken them an hour and a half to reach the New Jersey border, and one more hour to arrive at the Newark Liberty International Airport, where they were currently sat in the parking lot of, at three forty-two in the morning.

“Alright let’s get you in there,” Louis said, making sure Eden’s bag was fully packed and he was at least physically ready to go—emotionally was a different story.

The group hopped out of the bus and Harry and Louis walked with Eden in the middle, both of their closest arms draped in separate spots around his back. They swept through the heavy glass doors and went straight to the flight time boards, reading down the list and hoping for an easy coincidental flight to Idaho. No such luck.

“Damn,” Louis cursed, flagging down a nearby attendant for some information.

Harry took Eden in his arms and rested his cheek atop on his black mop of hair, taking in his scent and chuckling in his throat—he smelled like Louis’ endorphins. He tuned out Louis’ conversation with the suspiciously helpful employee (an affected of lure, no doubt) and sat down with his group in the nearest conglomerate of rock-hard chairs, resisting the urge to have Eden in his lap and settling for his putting an arm on the back of the human’s seat.

“You’re really gonna love Harlock’s, he’s a great friend of mine. Known him since...shit, I don’t even remember. Long time. I’m sure he’ll have stories to tell you about me. _And_ you’ll be with Louis’ Mother. So you’ll have pieces of us around if you look hard enough, but don’t turn down an opportunity for some fun, if you know what I mean,” Harry said wisely, making sure to meet Eden’s eyes so he’d take him seriously.

“For you, I won’t,” Eden promised, his head perking back up when Louis skipped back over to the group.

“So what happened? I tuned out my senses,” Harry said, lifting his arm off the chair and interlocking his fingers in his lap.

“There’s a new flight to Boise, _just opened up_ isn’t that weird, but it’s at six. That’s the best I could do. I feel really bad about leaving them here that long,” he said with looks of concern to Eden and Josiah, his urge to kill becoming too great to stay rooted in one stationary place for a full two hours.

“We’ll stay with them,” Erakus offered surely, Marley nodding along to the promise even though they hadn’t previously spoken of it.

“Really?” Louis asked, looking around at everyone and debating the pros and cons of that plan. “Where will you go at sunrise?”

“We’ll find somewhere,” Marley brushed, his hand perpetually rested on Erakus’s upper thigh.

“Are you sure?” Louis pressed, truthfully overjoyed that it seemed they’d found a solution to their problem.

“Completely. We won’t leave until we know they’re gonna be safe,” Marley pledged, smiling at Josiah regardless of Tanner’s possessive glare.

“Alright...I’m gonna call Harlock,” Louis said, walking over to the payphone (that honestly should have been free) and shoving miscellaneous coins into its slot, dialing the number he’d finally memorized and waiting as the dial tone blared in his ear.

“Hello?” he heard the familiar voice of Harlock ask, his smile ear to ear because Harlock never failed to use that prissy and stuck up tone in his voice.

“Hey, Eyepatch,” he replied, chuckling at the short gasp he received.

“Jenner! Jen! Babe, come down here, it’s Louis!” he yelled away from the mouthpiece, a few scuffling sounds scratching the connection until it cleared again. “Hey, Lou, how are you doing?”

“I’m good, brother. Listen, got a bit of a favour to ask…”

“Did you say Louis?” he heard Jenner call from what sounded like across the room, a few thumps resonating as Jenner ran toward the phone. “Hello?” he squeaked in excitement.

“Hey, Jen,” Louis laughed, not minding the interruption because it didn’t matter which lover he talked to—they were a dependable team.

“Got a favour?” Jenner asked, probably having been mouthed that by Harlock upon stealing the phone.

“Yeah, I need you to be at the Boise Airport at 3 p.m. exactly. I have two humans to give you. Need you to take ‘em in. That possible?” he asked, already having a fairly good idea of what the consensus would be among the two.

“Of course! What are their names?” Jenner asked, the clear sounds of pen against paper sounding through the line as the warlock recorded the given information.

“Eden and Josiah. Eden is a Chinese boy with shoulder-length black hair, and Josiah is a Russian boy with sort of...shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. They’ll be coming from a six a.m. flight from Newark. Just write their names on some signs or something, I don’t want them getting lost,” he said, crossing his ankle over his other foot as he leaned against the side of the phone booth.

“No doubt. Yeah, you got it. I’ll daylight Harlock in an hour or so, and we’ll make it to the airport for sure,” he vowed, lifting every ounce of weight off of Louis’ shoulders.

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. And hey...try to match Eden with someone really appreciative and caring, alright? He’ll be a little sad,” he said quietly, angling himself away from his group across the way.

“Understood. We’ll keep him from the party vamps,” Harlock assured, taking the phone back to talk business. “You’re going to be in New York, right? That’s still the plan?”

“Yup. We’ll get there soon, I gotta get out of here before I explode,” Louis confirmed, his antsy nerves piling the longer he waited.

“Alright. Call me when you get somewhere, I want to talk to Harry soon too. I always wanna know what’s up with you guys, you know? Auron’s still out there,” he reasoned, getting through to Louis because he could agree with that.

“You be careful too. They know who you are as well,” Louis reciprocated, guilty he’d put all of his friends on the ringer, Harry’s past feud be damned. Auron had tracked Louis for quite a while, and that had...well also not been his fault, but whatever. He'd caused problems for the Sparrows, and he feels like shit over it.

“Yeah I know. He won’t win, alright? You go kill now, ya little monster. Put those humans on a plane and we’ll keep them here for as long as they want,” he said, letting Jenner throw out a quick “goodbye” before the call ended.

“Thanks. See you one of these days,” Louis said, hanging up the phone and waltzing back to his group, pulling Eden to his feet and holding on tight, Harry taking up the other side to enact a group hug. “It’s only goodbye for now, sugarbutt,” he murmured into Eden’s ear, unfortunately only making his snivels worse.

“I’ll miss you guys so much,” the boy cried, tears streaming down his face in excess.

Louis pulled back and held Eden’s pretty face in his hands, thumbing away his tears and smashing their lips together, disregarding any possible homophobes in the establishment. He suspended the kiss in time and put all his comforts and presence into it, gentle fingertips mapping the lines of the human’s cheeks. “Bye, darling,” he whispered against his lips, turning him over to Harry for his turn.

“Bye,” Eden sobbed, throwing his arms around Harry’s sinewy frame and craning his neck upward to meet the Roman’s lips halfway. Harry bent down and closed the distance, a hand held under Eden’s chin as he kissed his salty lips. Once he’d broken their final kiss, he shook his hand across Eden’s scalp, mussing his black hair to an unmanageable degree and laughing at the porcupine effect he’d created, blowing him an extra kiss as he stepped away.

The immortals, except Erakus and Marley, all stood and made their way to the Elders, waving as they began to retreat. “You’ll come meet us in The Bronx?” Louis asked to those left behind, walking backwards to catch the response.

“Yup! We’ll be there in another day. Don’t even bother to tell us where you think you’ll be, we’ll just follow the bodies,” Marley said with a wink, leaning into Erakus’s side when the immortal threw an arm around him.

“Alright. Bye, little heaven,” the King said to the distraught Eden, stopping himself from returning for more hugs because they needed to leave, and Eden needed to start coping with that now.

“Until we meet again,” Harry added, grabbing ahold of Louis’ hand and turning them around.

“I’ll be waiting,” Eden said strongly, literally slapping the tears off his face and sitting down with purpose. Time to be a man.

Louis and Harry walked out the doors that their friends had opened for them, the whole original group (plus the technical later addition of Tanner) walking out into the night and looking north on impulse, only a few miles, the Hudson river, and thirty-seven minutes between them and mass decimation.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, _mon_ _cher_?” Harry mused, laughing outright when Louis raced off to the bus without saying a word. It didn’t matter. They were most definitely thinking the same thing; the same monstrous challenge on their twisted minds—who would have the highest body count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha oh man. Poor Eden. Me as hell, I would SOBBBBBB. Dave may or may not be loosely based from me. I had long ass dreads for a little over 4 years, and I deffo talked like an idiot lol. Alright, sooooo, New York is next. Oh boy. We ready? The title of the next chapter will be "Fuck Pacifism" so you can guess haha. Dunno how long it's gonna take me to write this one, cuz it needs to be gooooood, but I'll start working on it tonight after I wake up (I'm nocturnal if you didn't know) It's 7am and I need sleep. But needed to put this out before of courseeee. Wouldn't forget youuuuu. Alright, until next time, peaches.
> 
> Ps, can someone jot down all of the pet names that Louis has given Eden since they met? Haha some are ridiculous, I want them tallied and listed.


	25. Fuck Pacifism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!! WARNING! FUCKING LUDICROUS AMOUNTS OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE !!!!!!  
>  Seriously, this is gore at its finest. Senseless, pretty graphic, and very descriptive imagery. Probably worse than you think...  
> HEED THIS AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION. I made mySELF gag writing some of this shit, and if you're generally squeamish (not an insult), then go back out the way you came before it's too late. That's why this chapter is relatively short compared to my others. Everything that happens after this scene will go into the next one for the sole sake of people who don't feel like they want to read this chapter, and that's totally fine.  
> Enter at your own risk lol, and for those who don't like gore, all you need to know is there was a massacre in New York, and I'll see you next time. I'll even put a little vague play-by-play into the beginning author's note of the next chapter for you cuz some other things happen here, but they're not necessarily crucial to the plot.  
> For those who dig it, cackle maniacally and start scrolling at once!

The balls of Louis’ feet wouldn’t stop twitching. His restless legs were bouncing with anticipation and his hands were gripping the seat beneath him so hard he thought he might tear the fabric.

“Relax,” Harry whispered to him, a feeble attempt to get his arms around the jittery Louis failing when the King slapped him away.

“Relax?” he seethed, his fangs out and dripping with endorphins as they drove onto the George Washington Bridge from the I-95 Express, his head splitting with the worst pain he’d ever felt in this life, excruciatingly desperate and merciless. This migraine would not settle unless they got blood, and soon.

“It’s four twenty-three in the fucking morning, Louis. We have two and a half hours, _at best_ , before that wretched ball of fire comes up, and we can't be out there when it does. You—no listen to me—you _need_ to watch and fucking _pace_ yourself because you I need to be able to stop you. Because if _I_ don't, the _sun will_. Violently. So keep yourself in fucking check so that I even have a _chance_ at taking care of you,” he stressed, his voice raising in volume because his worry overshot all of his personal excitement.

“Oh, you’re taking the high road? _You_? The one who got me into this mess in the first place? The one who destroyed my abstinence and turned me into a ruthless killer? _That’s rich_. Don’t...act like...you aren’t in the exact same fucking place that I am. High and mighty, right? Not a fucking chance, look at you. Your eyes are nearly red already and we haven’t even gotten there yet, you despicable hypocrite,” Louis snarled, actually disgusted with Harry’s dishonest behavior.

“And you? Practically foaming at the fucking mouth? Comparatively, I’m doing _just fine_ , you psychopath,” Harry bit, his next words on the tip of his tongue when Louis beat him to it.

“Don’t lie to me!” Louis snapped, far too in tune with his Roman and the kind of immortal he was to accept this condescending bullshit.  

“Al _right_! I'm fucking fiending. _Shit_ ,” Harry spat in surrender, spinning around to shout at Zayn. “Can this bus go any fucking faster!”

“We don't _need_ the sodding bus,” Louis growled, flashing to the doors and slapping them open, leaping out and scrambling onto the roof of the vehicle before anyone could say anything about it.

“Oh Jupiter,” Harry cursed, quickly following before he lost track of his determined lover.

“We’ll be at Tremont Park,” Niall said quickly with stern enunciation, begging Harry to remember those words.

“Tremont Park, got it,” Harry said with a sharp nod, jumping out of the moving bus and twisting around mid-air to grab onto the roof, catapulting himself above the ledge to land in a crouch beside Louis, who was stood at full height and licking his lips as he stared at the wasteland of New York City like it was a giant T-bone steak, and he was a lion. Pretty apt comparison, really.

“Come on,” the King said, grabbing Harry around the arm and soaring skyward, all the way up to the top of the bridge and landing on a thick metal beam, making sure he placed Harry in the spot right behind him. (In his distracted whirlwind of thoughts, it wasn't actually that inconceivable that he would simply drop Harry back down.)

Harry gained his bearings and straightened his knees to stand, looking down at Louis and shooing his hands when he simply stared and did nothing. “This was _your_ stupid idea now _go_!” he urged impatiently, nudging Louis’ thigh with his foot.

Louis smirked and took off, the pair leaping and sliding across the swaying metal cables that arched between the vertical towers like they were surfing, the wind whipping their hair as they raced each other on the parallel tightropes. Louis got ahead and ran up the line to the next tower, sprinting across the top and flipping off the edge to land back on the cable effortlessly, bending his knees for extra speed and looking behind him to gauge how close Harry was.

“Why do you always have to make everything a challenge?” Harry shouted through the turbulent wind, doing a cartwheel off the tower for fun and grinning in glee as he slipped down the cable like he was on a rollercoaster. Might have been a dumb plan, but it was admittedly quite the rush. His and Alexander’s relationship in a nutshell.

“Because I always win,” Louis responded haughtily, his need for blood getting too adamant to keep the game going anyway. “Hurry up,” he said, using his vampiric speed to leave the Roman in the dust.

Harry scoffed and ran as fast he could, catching up to Louis in no time and grabbing ahold of his hand, interlocking their fingers as they crossed the end of the 14-lane bridge together. They leapt off the last tower and flew through the air toward the nearest building, Harry’s heavier weight landing him on the roof a second before Louis, letting go of his hand before their future jumps ripped arms out of sockets.

Louis sniffed around for the best area and gagged on the foul stench of New York, a putrid aroma of sulfur, rot, and disease that thickened the air like sludge. Smoke blurred the starry horizon and the orange tongues of flames licked through the black clouds that crowded the skyline like the pores of fungus. New York was on fire.

“Jupiter...what _happened_ to this place?” Harry breathed in shock, his curious ears swallowing the sounds of distant screams and wails of torment. This was not the bustling city gleaming with promise that he'd traveled through with Martin in the year 1800. This was somewhere else. He turned his gaze south to Manhattan, squinting his eyes to make out the glittering skyscrapers that teased the stratosphere. “Maybe we should go there,” he said to Louis, pointing where he was looking and turning Louis’ attention to him. “To the heart of the city. It doesn't seem to be a blazing fire pit.”

“No...” Louis said with a shake of his head, his hungry eyes returning to the inferno of the east, “...we're going straight into hell,” he chuckled unnervingly, hopping off the building to the next one and forcing Harry to follow the sounds of disaster, both of their fangs shooting out the closer they got.

They leapt block over block, sniffing down alleys for a good-sized group. The Bronx seemed in the midst of some crucial emergency, and it couldn't have been timed better. The entire place was an irreparable mess; shells of abandoned and crumbled buildings made up the majority of the borough, all extensively defaced with colourful graffiti, and the rest seemed to be on fire, well on their way to joining the graveyard of forgotten industrialization.

Stray animals and humans alike dotted the trash-infested alleys and sidewalks, wrapped in crusty blankets while they warmed their fingerless-gloved-hands over puttering fires in metal trash cans, fueled by paper wads of today’s news. Louis had the passing thought that if they're looking for warmth, they should just saunter down a few intersections.

Demolition sites that had never been swept up had degraded into free-for-all landfills, which had then turned into treasure troves for the needy, and almost every dumpster had the rear end of a person sticking out the side as they scooped their fishing arms around the smelly contents. It was disgusting—it was perfect.

Louis knew he couldn't be picky for much longer, and when he saw a large group of homeless individuals crowding yet another makeshift bin campfire on the first floor of a skeleton business, he set his murderous sights. He skidded to a stop on the roof he'd come to, halting Harry’s dash as well as they crouched on the edge and smirked down at their unknowing victims across the street. Going by the bent sign by a shattered lamppost, they'd come to Westchester Avenue, and looking both ways down its length, they could tell it was the most heavily populated area in the borough...so jackpot.

“Clock’s ticking,” Harry said, the words coming out in a small hiss as his true monster came out to rule after so long being dormant, both immortals shooting like bullets down through the glassless windows and landing on opposite sides of the quiet and somewhat peaceful group of unsuspecting humans.

The humans jolted at the immortals’ arrival and collectively gasped or squealed when they got a look at the monstrous strangers, immediately scattering like disrupted ants. Louis grinned at their mouse-like behavior and snatched the closest one like the snake he was, gently petting its matted hair. “Don't worry,” he cooed to the whimpering thing, offhandedly noticing that Harry was already ripping people apart like a savage. “I'm going to make your death feel so good,” he whispered seductively, wasting no more time and digging into its neck, forcibly sucking its blood out at a barbaric speed while it screamed in both fear and pleasure, draining it dry before five seconds had passed.

He tossed it away like a rag doll and raced around to the others trying to flee, snapping leg bones to make leaving harder, and throwing them in a close-quartered pile to pick from. Their wails of desperation and terror danced around his ears, pleasing him to the nth degree, and he fondly beamed down at his squirming pile of meals, his heart thumping with the life-force of his first, a victim he will always cherish. “Who wants to go next?” he cooed to their crying faces, glancing up at his Roman because he was making a fucking racquet and he wanted to know why.

Harry had taken the second half of the group, and apparently dragged in twenty more humans from down the street, biting them all in at least one place to make them stay while he collected more. Now with his desired number present, he was wreaking absolute havoc.

Louis’ formerly reserved and peaceful Roman had evidently died, and he wasn't even bothering to please the humans as he killed them. He was digging his claws deep into fleshy bits of limbs and stretching them apart with wet snapping sounds to engorge himself with the blood that spewed from the amputated appendages. That's what the commotion was. His platter courses were screaming in real agony, not ecstasy. _Brutal, Hadrian._

“Please! Don't,” one of Louis’ sobbed, holding his knee that had been shattered and trying to scoot away.

“Aww _you_ wanna go next?” Louis said with a grin, flashing forward and dragging the mouse away from the pile while they all cried in horror, biting into his neck and drinking his life away in a few moments of time. The death rattle of a human’s very last breath had always been music to Louis’ ears, and he consequently plowed through the rest of his victims in search of it, chasing that glorious final choking gasp from their ravaged throats.

His overpowering flood of vitality went entirely unnoticed, and he bit into his last remaining mouse with a mindless display of aggression, forgetting to make it feel good for them and causing real torture to encompass their last moments in this world. And _that_ felt unspeakably great.

He had no one left in his immediate reach and he stumbled to Harry’s prey, only getting a hand on one before Harry slammed into him and knocked him away. “Mine,” he growled, blood coating the entire front of his body. “ _Mine_.”

Louis hissed threateningly and Harry hissed right back, the two smashing their chests together and nearly initiating a deadly challenge where they stood, but Louis got momentarily distracted by a scent and tiny whine outside the building, and Harry dove back onto his heap of bloodied, torn, and broken humans.

Louis skirted around the exterior of the building and stopped short when he found an attractive young boy cowering down between the brick frame and a thorny bush. “Hi sweetie,” he said lowly, cautiously approaching the frightened deer.

One look into Louis’ glowing eyes and the human’s face went slack, his expression turning into one of worship rather than paralyzing fear. “God,” he whimpered, crawling over to the deity and throwing himself at his feet.

Louixander cackled in joy, outstretching his arms and laughing to the sky as he marinated in the satisfaction of being addressed as the supposed creator of the universe. “That’s right,” he confirmed, gingerly guiding the human off the ground and backing him against the wall. “I’m your God tonight,” he murmured, connecting their lips and grinding their crotches together, his hands scouring the boy’s figure and groping at his arse as he kissed down his neck.

The boy’s hands tightened in Louis’ hair and he screeched in rapture when Louis bit into him, the King taking it impressively slow to be as kind as he could to this one, letting him feel the full capacity of perfection that inevitably spawns from a death at the hands of a vampire. Louis held him close as he got weaker and weaker, gulping the last few mouthfuls of blood down while the faintest whisper of “thank you” floated into his ears. He finished the boy off then, catching him when he keeled over and gently laying him down onto the ground, kissing his forehead and giggling to himself.

Now _that_ was how a human should act. They _should_ thank vampires for taking their lives. Thank them for bestowing such heaven within their fragile bodies; willingly give their souls over to the otherworld as their bodies expired in the arms of an immortal. If the old King’s power-trip was bad before, getting thanked for murder propelled it to staggering new heights, and he let out a fierce roar of authoritative victory to the smoky skies, much like the leader lion of the pride proclaiming his savanna territory. He was a God now. The God of New York. And he had more disciples to recruit.

He ran off down Westchester Avenue and delicately tore into more people, taking the time to treat them with meticulous care to stay revered and adored. He swept down the middle of the abandoned pavement of the roadway and made straggler humans flock to him by use of his expansive Elder lure, all the while spouting bullshit about how he would free them from the chains of sin.

Once he had a collection of at _least_ twenty five, he herded them into an abandoned alley to keep them all together and initiated his feast, sending them across the invisible barriers of dimension and getting naïvely thanked every time. Before he could ferry all the souls of his loyal slaves, his head began to pound with astounding pressure, the familiar feeling of overdosing teasing the edges of his nervous system.

He took a small pause, but when the surrounding beauties whined for him, and more stumbled into the alley under his widespread spell of compulsion, he decided to ignore the warnings of his body. He was stronger than his limits anyway. He could overcome the biological rules of his species; nothing would ever stop him now.

 

~~~

 

Hadrian made his dizzied way outside the building after he’d devoured and disemboweled all of his little subjects, and he jumped on the first person he saw. He ensnared it in his arms and maniacally grinned down at its panicked face, squeezing it tighter the more it struggled and shattering its ribs in the process. He took pity on its tragic tears and drank it down in an instant, chucking its weightless shell aside afterward and drunkenly stumbling into a broken down car beside the curb as his vision blackened with the telltale dots of “slow the fuck down or else.”

He held his wrists over his eyes and groaned as the sharp ache in his head split down his every nerve-ending, his lungs struggling under the heaves of his breaths, his heart beating way too fast and due for an attack any second now if he continued.

He couldn’t use words, but his pained moans spoke all the curses he was trying to remember, tears streaking down his face from the sufferable pain in his everything. Regardless of his physical misery, he stared down at the blood caked on his clothes and skin and smiled at the unremovable stains because he’d finally let himself do this. The addicting feeling of enacting a massacre is something he’d missed more than he’d realized, and he was grateful to his King for allowing it.

As soon as the thought had passed his thoughts, and he began to wonder where that animal was, the very King in question shrilly screamed into the night from somewhere down the avenue, and Harry was jarred out of his black hole of perception. _My beloved is in trouble._ He forcefully shoved himself off the battered hood of the car and put one foot in front of the other to reach his Louis’ location. His screeching was coming from a distant alley, and Hadrian forced himself to cross the street and jog toward it, his mind fretful and concerned over what condition he would find his lover in.

Mid-stride, a sudden tidal wave of exhaustion slugged him like a baseball bat and he keeled over against the building to his left. He kept his feet moving at all costs and slid the side of his weakened body along its brick face, valiantly quickening his pace when Louis’ tortured sobs got worse.

He _finally_ swung around the corner of the alley and stepped into the horror scene, his foot slipping on the blood that coated the concrete and causing him to fall straight onto a pile of half-drunk and wiggling humans. His tongue darted out of its own accord to lap the blood from one’s lacerated skin, and he couldn’t help his fangs from sinking in, but his eyes simultaneously searched for Louis, finding him about ten metres away, convulsing on the ground as he suffered the early but severe consequences of overdosing. Which Hadrian was dangerously close to as well.

Harry tried his hardest to communicate but he was too stuck in the patch of flesh under his fangs, resorting to making muffled shouts of insistence at the King, his own body curdling with agony as he took in more and more blood. He was now trapped in a helpless situation and putting both of them in further danger, but he was powerless against himself, his veins clogged and clotted while Louis was internally stretched across the horrid din of Hades’ lair. They were both insurmountably fucked.

It was when Louis flipped around and belly-crawled to another crying human that Harry truly panicked. He called upon Jupiter for strength and wrenched his fangs out of the human thigh beneath him, loudly popping and snapping its muscle tendons in the process, and thrashed his body forward to get off the mound of mortals, right as Louis uncontrollably dug into his current victim’s calf.

“Mégas!” he croaked with a gurgled throat, spitting blood out of his overflowing mouth and coughing all that he could out of his esophagus, the thick liquid splattering onto the ground like a shower of abhorrent rain. He slashed his wrist with a claw to drain more from his body, and that gave him enough clarity to move. He scrambled over to his sobbing lover and tackled him with every possible morsel of strength he had, tearing him away from the human and using the momentum to propel them down on their sides a safe distance away.

Louis felt like he was going to explode, and to avoid this gnawing feeling, he would welcome death a thousand times over. He spit the chunk of flesh out of his mouth that had gone with him from Harry’s sidelong attack, and grunted in discomfort when the Roman roughly held him down and sprung into action to reverse his condition.

Harry clawed at main arteries in Louis’ body to expel the pints of extra blood like a garden hose, biting into additional spots on the back of his neck and spitting out what filled his mouth like one would suck the venom from a snake bite. It was admittedly hard to spit it out instead of swallow it all like he wanted to, and maybe he slipped up a few times, but getting it _out_ of Louis in general was the main concern here.

Louis’ hands flew to his spurting neck and he choked on unattainable oxygen, the gushing wound luckily closing quickly enough to restore his breath before he passed out. He could think a little more clearly now that he was partly drained of the suffocating overstock of blood, but that unfortunately only left room to want more.

Harry was still diligently working on releasing trapped blood from Louis’ body, and the longer it went on, and the more it began to enrage the King. How dare the Roman take that precious life away? “I'm _alright_ , Hadrian,” he snapped, trying to twist around and push Hadrian’s prying self away from him. “Get the fuck off me!” he roared when he discovered he was too weak to overpower him, punching him in the face to at least get his attention.

Harry grunted and was flung onto his back, quickly forcing himself into a seated position to glare Louis down for his baseless assault. The two stared hard into the other’s reddened irises and the lock of gazes was henceforth suspended in time, the lovers covered head to toe in blood and panting breathlessly as they warily pondered what the other would do.

Louis broke the eye contact first and dove for the closest human like a hawk from the sky, a mere three gulps deep when Harry yanked him back by his hair.

“Mégas, enough! You’ve had enough! Stop!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he heaved them both to their feet, repeatedly pounding Louis in the stomach until he vomited the intake back up.

Louis growled after he lost the blood he'd just drunk and threw an elbow back aimed for Harry’s jaw, but he was still too slow. Harry shot his arms out around Louis’ upper body, trapping his own against his sides, and infuriatingly lifted him right off the ground.

He growled again and wildly kicked his feet as Harry pivoted and threw them both down against the concrete like they were in a televised wrestling match, the victorious Roman then crawling all the way on top of him and hissing in his face. Louis darted upward and bit hard into Harry’s exposed neck, taking back what the Emperor had stolen from him (plus fresh and untasted blood) and trying to fill himself up in the limited amount of time he had to do it.

“Cut it out!” Harry roared through the pleasure of the King’s endorphins, upper-cutting Louis’ jaw and consequently getting those lethal teeth out, both hands flying up to curl around Louis’ neck and strangle him back to death if need be. “You’ve gone too fucking far—don’t you see that, you gorgon?” he challenged as Louis spluttered for air, the Roman more so exasperated than furious because he’d known this shit was going to happen.

Louis pretended to surrender to get Harry to ease up, lying motionless and forcing an expression of neutrality to smooth the edges of rage from his face. Harry responded just as he’d expected him to, sighing in relief and taking his hands away from his throat, which was a grave mistake on his part. Louis used a recharged surge of energy to turn over and jump back toward the slowly dying prey, but that turned out to be quite the grave mistake of his own.

“Not so fucking fast, are you kidding?” Hadrian barked in ill-timed laughter, shredding Louis’ clothes off with two lengthy sweeps of his nails and pinning him down against the ground with all of his weight. “Did you think I _trust you_ right now? You fell right into that trap, you idiot,” he seethed, guiding his freed cock to that goldmine between Louis’ legs, experiencing a decent amount of difficulty while the King tried to buck him off.

“Hadrianus,” Alexander warned menacingly, the promise of the Roman’s death hanging on the end of his tone if he were to be disobeyed. Which he was. The sudden intrusion in his body was startling to say the least, and he let out a loud hiss of protest, but he hunkered down in fear when Hadrian responded with the most deafening and scarily predatory hiss Louis had ever heard him make in a thousand years, far surpassing the power and authority of his own.

“Silence!” Hadrian commanded, finally in control of his rabid lover. He used his dominance to his advantage, pounding into him without mercy as he sliced both his and Louis’ skin routinely to let more of their gluttonous and stolen blood drip out of them and bring them back from the brink of the craze.

As more blood oozed out of the wounds on his skin, the pressurized feeling of imminent combustion in Louis’ body began to alleviate. He knew his eyes had returned to their natural colours, and he was no longer ruled by the unwavering desire to ravage the humans in the alley—who, for the record, had all unfortunately bled out and died by this point.

“Are you back?” Hadrian asked, slowing his hateful fucking to slowly roll his hips while they communicated.

“Make me come, then we'll talk,” Louis slurred, his perception still murky from the wide variety of feelings and instincts that had plugged and short-circuited it.

Harry growled in appreciation and fucked his King hard, his forehead rested between Louis’ shoulder blades as his arm muscles burned from upholding his body, but he persevered, panting little puffs of cold steam onto Louis’ shivering skin. They were both freezing and drowning in exhaustion, but the delicious sensation of their sex was too savory to deny, and they moaned and gasped their way through the track to the finish line.

“We're not doing this alone _ever again_. We can't fucking be trusted,” Harry grunted, his hips getting erratic because he was near release and it was getting hard to focus on fleeting things like pattern.

“Don't stop,” Louis begged, his back arched with an obscenely attractive curvature to give Harry a straight-shot angle.

The insistence Louis displayed corrected Harry’s fumbling in an instant, the Elder gripping his love’s sides and slamming into him with a stagnant rhythm, bringing them both to completion and pushing them off the precipice of a jagged and carnal mountaintop, the pair theoretically tumbling down the rocky descent as they messily came to their cocks’ fullest extents; Louis on the concrete, Harry inside Louis.

Harry then rolled them onto their sides and held Louis as tightly as he could without causing any pain, though maybe some small (huge) part of him wanted to for all the shit Louixander had just put them through. “You make my entire life feel like a torture device from the 15Endless’s,” he insulted, extremely disappointed in Louis’ feral and uncoordinated behavior but so very turned on at the same time.

“You drive me insane and I hate you,” Louis croaked back, wiggling down on Harry’s cock that was still inside of him and smirking when the motion made it begin to harden again.

“I hate you more than I hate the sun,” Harry growled, making tiny thrusts with his pelvis into his favourite tunnel of all time.

“I hate every single inch of your existence,” Louis moaned, lifting his top leg and grinning when Harry took hold of it to keep his thighs apart.

“Even _these_ inches?” Harry challenged incorrigibly, strengthening his thrusts to illustrate he was referring to the inches of his erection.

“These ones are fine,” Louis gasped, gripping Harry’s forearm that was wrapped up and across his chest with both hands, whining wordlessly for Harry to go faster, which he did in earnest. “These ones are just fine.”

 

\---

 

They fucked each other three more times until they were back in a state of total calm, the human blood having sizzled and withered out of their veins after the last round of orgasms. They were empty, tired, and inappropriately comfortable cuddling together in a pool of stale blood, surrounded by sulken corpses.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said honestly, turning around in Harry’s arms and seeking out his eyes.

“For what?” Harry asked, snorting at the matted and crusted condition of Louis’ bloody porcupine hair. He tried to run a hand through it but it was all for naught so he gave up, leaving the primping hand on his lover’s shoulder instead.

“What do you mean for what? I mean for...causing a bit of trouble for you,” Louis said obviously, opposed to spelling everything out just for Harry’s patronizing benefit.

“A bit? A _bit_ of trouble,” Harry repeated incredulously, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You nearly slipped into a coma! Which _might_ have been fine if _I’d_ been perfectly competent the whole time, but I almost did too! Then we would have...just...ugh, that’s why I said we can’t do this alone anymore,” he settled on, flinching when he finally conceptualized the other reason they were so tired. “What fucking time is it?” he gasped, scrambling out of their relaxed position and glancing skyward. The smoke in the air blocked a lot of light from bleeding through, but there was no way that they hadn’t left the comfort of night by now. It was getting too bright in the alley.

“Should we go back to the park?” Louis asked, watching as Harry tiptoed down the alleyway to look out into the street.

“Shit! We need to, yeah. Now,” Harry demanded, running back and snatching a blanket off one of the deceased homeless to bundle Louis up the best he could manage, his clothes in irreparable condition strewn all over the alley.

“Do we have time?” Louis asked skeptically, getting led under Harry’s arm out the way they came and stepping out onto the main sidewalk, the environment now saturated with the colourful effects of mid-sunrise. Passerbys of the same variety as their victim counterparts shrieked at the gruesome sight of them, but Louis considered them all lucky they hadn’t crossed their paths an hour or so ago.

They stumbled tiredly down the streets to find Tremont Park, neither of them having much of an idea as to where it was. They tried to ask a human they encountered for directions, but after the addressed mortal nearly died of fright, they decided not to try that again, taking only back-alleys and the most inconspicuous routes they could find.

Unfortunately for them, the sun was faster. Harry chanced a look behind him and his eyes widened like saucers in alarm. “Shit! Fuck! Fucking fuck!” he barked as the sun broke the horizon, its blanket of rays sweeping up the pavement like a giant paint brush, the vampires frantically running away from it in an infuriating game of tag.

The horizontal line of opposing shadow and sunlight reached their ankles as they popped out into an unfamiliar intersection, and that was when Louis almost fell ill, sagging in Harry’s arms and adding dead weight to their equation.

“Not here,” Harry snapped, lifting Louis into his arms as the sun now fully beat against their skin, making a quick dash with the last of his vampiric energy into the nearest alley a little ways ahead. As he noted the objects inside of said alley, the blast of a solution ignited in his mind like a firework. He carried Louis down the corridor en route to the dumpster that sat innocently in the middle against the left wall, still racing against the reach of the sun’s radiance all the way up to the smelly box.

Louis groaned at the insinuation but he could offer no better resolution and they saw it for the necessity that it was. Harry hiked Louis up his side with one arm and flipped the top of the dumpster open, diving up and over the side with his King as the top slammed back down after them, mere seconds before the sun illuminated the entirety of the alley.

“Wonderful,” Louis muttered, shifting against the aluminum cans and glass bottles that dug into his legs.

Harry helped rewrap him in the big plaid blanket they’d looted to keep his naked skin in a burrito of cloth at least, and Harry spooned the cocooned King in his arms, finding himself chuckling as sleep crept up on them both. “Could be worse,” he snorted, closing his eyes for the most awkward sleep he’d have in centuries.

Louis laughed too and sighed in defeat, deciding to reap what they’d sowed because they had no choice, and they _maybe_ deserved this. And Harry was right; it could indeed be worse. As shitty as this was, Louis was objective enough to find it hilarious at the same time. It was definitely one of the lowest, _rock-bottom_ points in their entire existences, but hey...you gotta do what you gotta do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so why does this story have absolutely no bookmarks? Does that make sense to anyone? Why aren't you bookmarking it? I mean the difference between the first and this sequel is a large contrast; it's lower than my least hitted fic I wanna kNOW WHY.  
> No, but anyway, how was the bloody squishy goodness? feedback. now. I'll also have you fucking know that I went back and downplayed a little bit of this lmao. It really did get too bad for a minute there as I was writing it.  
> So yeah sorry if this seemed too simple a chapter with not a lot of important things in it, but as I said before, I didn't want anyone missing out cuz of the slaughter.  
> Alright love you, bye <3


	26. So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was late, this was kind of an important chapter. Ended up being like...well over 10k so that's probably why. Alright, go ahead and read. See why it's so important ;)

“But where did they _go_?” Niall griped, aimlessly spinning in circles while they scoured E Tremont Avenue for their misplaced Elders.  

The group had woken at half past seven in the evening, and of course Harry and Louis had not yet returned, but they hadn’t expected them to after staying up past sunrise waiting for them. They weren’t _worried_ , per se, but they were certainly curious as to what had happened to their Elders. It was a well-known fact that Harry and Louis went a little nuts when left unattended, and the group was starting to regret not watching over them.

“I smell death that way,” Martin noted as the eldest in their immediate group, his nose facing south and sniffing the musty air.  

“But is it a number of the magnitude we’d expect?” Zayn wondered, faintly detecting the aroma as well, but it was hard to trust because this borough sort of had the scent ingrained within it.

“It’s our best lead,” Martin shrugged, taking only one step when they were interrupted by two familiar presences running down the street.

“There you are!” Marley shouted, a giddy and skipping Erakus trailing behind him.

“Here we are,” Niall laughed, bear-hugging the Aussie when he was close enough.

“What’s up? Where’re…” Marley began, cocking his head to the side in puzzlement. “Haven’t found them yet?” he guessed, nodding when the two couples confirmed the assumption.

“‘Course you haven’t. They probably went until the sun came up and they had to hide. They’re probably underground somewhere after all that,” Erakus supposed, the group unanimously walking toward the scent that Martin had sussed out.

“Well we’re gonna check south first and then we’ll see,” Zayn said, throwing his arm around Niall and lightly scratching at his upper arm. “Don’t worry, alright?” he said to his lover, who was trying so very hard to act neutral when he was internally panicking.

“I’m not,” Niall lied, stepping out of Zayn’s arm to link elbows with Tanner instead, out of spite for being coddled.

“Eden and Josiah alright?” Martin asked, looking over his shoulder at the straight gay boys.

“Yup. Sent them off through the gate and Harlock will be there no matter what. He’s the most reliable vampire I know,” Erakus pledged, frantically zipping up his fly when he realized it was down from Marley’s most recent sexual attack. They’d woken at almost six and waited until the sun had fully set, then they’d run over the bridge that connects Jersey to New York, and they hadn’t been able to resist acquiring some blood from a willing donor. And they _may_ have participated in some extracurricular physical activities before getting serious to find their group, but who needed to know?

“Well at least one vampire in my life is,” Martin muttered, carefully disappointed with Harry’s inconsistency and unpredictably. Carefully because the Roman could crush him like a mosquito and he didn’t desire meeting that fate.

“It’s getting stronger,” Zayn said in reference to the scent, the group quickening their pace and speed-walking down the street until they came to Westchester Avenue. The minute they stepped around the corner, they slid to a stop, met with the sight of a closed-off road with police, ambulances, FBI agents, and most hilariously, Animal Control and Bronx Zoo workers. “Okay, it was definitely here,” he snorted, backing away from the corner and turning to face the group.

“Plan?” Martin asked, checking their surroundings to judge how suspicious they may look.

“The roof,” Tanner shrugged, hopping first onto the bench outside the old barber shop that hadn’t been one in years, and propelling himself onto the roof without looking to see if it was currently smart to.

“Jesus,” Zayn griped, staring up at the impulsive vampire who was lying on his belly and gazing down innocently from the roof. “Alright, fine,” he accepted, intelligent enough to know that it was their best option. One by one, they all jumped onto the roof and kept low to the surface, crouch-jogging along the tops of the buildings while following the scent of travesty, making sure there were no witnesses beneath them in alleys who could see them fly overhead.

The stumped musings of police conversation filled their ears the closer they got to the area of the massacre, and they tried not to laugh at their theories.

“Looks like animal to me,” one said, the sound of loud sipping from a coffee cup following his hypothesis.

“You think an animal would meander through The Bronx at four in the morning and desecrate sixty two people on its way out?” the other scoffed.

“Wolf pack? I don’t know… You think a _person_ would meander through The Bronx at four in the morning and desecrate sixty two people?” the first one reasoned skeptically.

“Well maybe not _one_ person. But a group of them, sure,” the second amended, audibly tossing his coffee cup into a trash bin. “You saw those bodies...this has serial written all over it.”

“Yeah, I _did_ see those bodies. The ones who looked like they were mauled and _eaten_ ! What kinda group would _do this_ to homeless people? _Any_ kind of people?” the first asked rhetorically, the appalled and also fearful undertones in his voice ringing clear.

“Psychopaths. That simple. A band of deranged, batshit-crazy cannibals,” the second muttered, walking away from the scene while the other followed. “I don’t know what’s gonna come from this, but I don’t expect these guys are done yet.”

The immortals had rolled their eyes and shaken their heads throughout that conversation, and when they came to a particular alley, they stopped short and looked down it with sharpened instincts.

“It’s this one,” Zayn whispered, the group peering over the building’s ledge like meerkats to see where all the humans were. “Should we wait until they’re gone?” he asked Martin, who shook his head and pointed down to the dumpster.

“No, we need to get them out now,” Martin disagreed, being the first to silently jump off and land in the alley. The others followed suit and hid somewhat behind the dumpster, watching the alley’s opening to make sure no human police officers were on their way to it.

“Now or never,” Niall said, tiptoeing to the lid of the dumpster and opening it up, the whole group looking down into it and dropping their mouths open. “Oh...my...God,” he whisper-shouted, staring at the most gruesome sight he’d ever seen to date. Harry and Louis were there, indeed—sleeping in filth and looking like two actors who had signed up to be covered in fake blood for a slasher horror film. Only...this was real blood—and no one had said “cut” or “take five” after they’d murdered all the paid extras on set.

Martin slapped his forehead and shook his head in exasperation. Harry had really outdone himself, and Louis was no better. The King was apparently naked in a big blanket, and Harry was wrapped around him from behind, the couple appearing to be quite comfortable despite the condition of themselves and their sleeping arrangements. Only these two could look so peaceful after committing an atrocity so horrific.

“Hey!” Zayn quietly snapped, reaching down inside and knocking his rings against the side of the metal dumpster, nervously glancing to the mouth of the alley because the tapping had clanged and reverberated a little louder than he’d intended. But he would rather die than touch these two animals right now. “Wake the fuck up,” he hissed after they’d flinched from his metallic knocking.

The Elders slowly stretched their muscles and stirred lazily, discovering where they were from the sour scent that likely reached their noses and cracking their eyes open in alarm. As one, they groaned and gingerly held their heads, recalling the events of the previous night and registering the aftereffects it had inflicted on their bodies.

“We have to go,” Martin said to his master, trying to avert his gaze when Harry glanced up at him with an unreadable look in his eyes—Harry didn’t look too kindhearted at the moment, and his glinting irises that shone through a face coated in dark blood were kind of paralyzing.

Louis whimpered from the ongoing sting in his brain and Harry turned his attention back on him at once, making incoherent cooing sounds in his ear and nosing at his cheek. Louis flipped over in his blanket burrito and moaned in discomfort while Harry continued to pamper him with affection, but the group’s patience was rapidly dwindling, considering they were in a position they should probably leave as soon as possible.

“Can they even speak?” Tanner asked in astonishment, wondering if their two Elders had finally snapped and lost themselves forever.

“Of course we can speak,” Louis muttered in annoyance, snuggling into Harry’s chest and tuning out the world as he tried to sate the throbbing in his overworked body.

“Okay great, you can speak. Can you move?” Zayn urged, uneasy with simply standing around the dumpster and waiting for these two to do something.

“Where?” Harry asked dumbly, closing his eyes to relax but snapping them back open when Zayn clashed his rings against the dumpster again. “ _What_.”

“Right now? The Bronx River. To throw you messes inside and scrub you to shit,” Zayn informed, snapping his fingers repeatedly to hopefully irritate the pair so much that they accepted just to make him stop. It worked.

“Got it,” Harry growled, finally heaving Louis and himself into sitting positions and waging how successfully he could get them out of this dump in the first place. “Alright,” he said, more to himself than his company, as he gathered the bundled Louis in his arms to carry and stood them both up in the trash, sinking down into the bottles a bit as he tried to get a foot up onto the edge. Once he had good grounding, he strained his thigh muscle and propelled himself out of the trash, hopping off their unfortunate campsite and testing out how to walk again.

“Jesus, look at you two,” Marley breathed, having only looked into the dumpster for a few short seconds because the others had taken over trying to get them awake.

“Zayn, we can’t do that again. You can’t ever let us do that again, and if we do anyway, you guys have to follow us. No matter what we say, or how we say it, you can’t leave us alone anymore,” Harry admitted, needing to get that out of the way before too much time went by and he started to get more confident with himself and his ability to control the situation—meaning he wouldn’t bring it up because he naïvely wouldn’t see the point.

“That’s a fucking obvious one, isn’t it? Did you think I didn’t come to that conclusion myself?” Zayn laughed, hopping up to the roof and beckoning everyone else when the coast was clear.

The group consecutively leapt up to where they’d come from, and Harry was the last to do it, bending his knees a bit to stretch before trying because he felt muddily hungover and unbalanced. His jump was luckily a success, though labored, and then they were off, playing hopscotch with roofs to reach the Bronx River and literally wash away the obvious proof of the Elders’ crimes. Not to mention erase the source of Niall’s nausea.

The traveled southwest from Rosedale Avenue to Close Avenue, then suddenly they were in a woodsy climate and they hadn’t expected it. The grass and trees were admittedly pretty dead and insipid, but the immortals were simply glad to be out of the brick rubble environment, and they could appreciate the mediocre break from the claustrophobia.

The group hung back to let Harry and Louis walk ahead of them, and Zayn and Niall practically poked their Elder backs with sticks to urge them into the water once they’d reached the shore. The water didn’t smell too great, but neither did the Elders, so everyone was prepared to take their chances.

“Look elsewhere, you idiots,” Harry chastised, shooing his hand at them to make them turn around. “And Louis will need a pair of clothes. So someone go steal some...from...somewhere,” he sighed, unable to bring any helpful suggestions to the table.

“I’ll go to Manhattan,” Zayn said, gone in a flash before Louis even opened his mouth to contest that.

“I...had clothes. In the bus. He doesn’t need to go stealing shit,” Louis noted, letting Harry guide him to the edge of the water and unwrap him from the blanket.

“I think Zayn stealing from New York is not something that should even remotely concern you. Not after what _we_ took from New York,” Harry commented, ridding himself of his own clothing and tapping at Louis’ shoulders to make him move.

“There’s a noticeable level of toxicity in that water,” Louis griped, rooting his feet and puffing his chest out defiantly.

“You’re dead. Industrial waste products won’t affect your health,” Harry grumbled, pushing Louis further as his heels dug deeper into the dirt, making two reluctant track marks instead of footprints.

“It’s got car tires in it everywhere. And trash. And that car is nearly submerged over there. There’s probably sharp ass metal things in there. And dead people,” Louis added in displeasure, pushing back and making himself as heavy as possible, imagining the soles of his feet were sprouting real roots all the way down to the Earth’s core.

“After the last fifteen hours of disgusting shit, do you _really_ think this water even compares? Anything else you’re fucking worried about while we’re at it? Go ahead, what else?” Harry snapped, close to his breaking point because out of all the things Louis could complain about, this was the dumbest.

Louis narrowed his eyes in contempt at Harry’s attitude and jabbed his finger at the river in accusation, the other hand haughtily jumping to his hip. “There’s piss in there.”

Harry stared blankly at Louis without blinking once and time stood absolutely still; that is until his arms darted out and snatched Louis right off the ground, leaping into the air and hurling the indignant King straight into the center of the river with a primal roar of aggravation. Louis was the most annoying presence to ever walk the pathways of Earth, and Harry was so very done with it. He flew in after Louis and crashed through the surface of the water, righting himself and breaking back into the oxygen to find Louis right in front of him, glaring fiercely as drops of water dripped from his eyebrows and lashes.

“How _fucking dare_ —”

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Louis underwater before he could continue, roughly scrubbing his hair with his hands to break apart the matted blood and get it out of his follicles. Louis’ hands shot out to grab at him but Harry evaded, holding him firm below the surface of the river as he shook his hair like he was scratching a dog’s eager rump. When he wanted to check the progress, he pulled the King back up by said hair, inspecting it in the darkness (clouds covered the moon) as he rubbed his shoulders.

“I’m going to kill—”

Harry groaned once more and pushed him back down, spending a little more time on his hair and running his hands over his flailing arms to hopefully clean them. It was going good until Louis found an opening and rose out of the water like a dolphin mid-dive, gripping two fists in Harry’s hair and drowning him instead, enacting the exact same harsh scratching on his scalp that he’d endured.

Harry remained submerged and let Louis do his worst, happy at least that his hair was getting some amount of attention. He spent the time underwater rubbing at his legs and body, subsequently reaching out for Louis’ torso when he considered his own acceptable. Louis jerked and fought back even though he wasn’t under attack, the two wrestling in the river and hatefully scrubbing each other clean. Love at its finest.

The rest of the group had watched the debacle with fleeting glances because they’d been banned from staring, each immortal bystander just as bemused as the next. The only noises—besides the ever-present wail of sirens and the honking of horns—to hear was the splashing of water and grunts of the Elders as they continued their game of whatever the fuck, so the first deafening clap of thunder scared the shit out of all of them.

Niall jumped into Zayn’s arms and shrieked in a pitch that could have made Zayn’s ears bleed, and the Elder couple stood in the water and stared at the sky, all battles of worth temporarily put on pause as they studied the atmosphere. In the span of a breath, rain began to beat down from the heavens like a shower on its highest jettison setting, and the Elders looked back to glare at each other, both somehow blaming the other for the timing of the weather.

“Look at that, Harry! What a great idea the piss river was, huh? Now it’s fucking raining! Clean water from the sky! How fucking ‘bout that, you idiot,” he sneered, stomping toward the shore and holding a hand over his private bits so his group wouldn’t see.

“Like I knew! It kinda smelled like rain, but how was I supposed to know it would actually rain? It’s always humid here!” Harry defended, using the timely downpour to his advantage and washing himself in that instead.

“Whatever, Hadrian. You’re just—”

“Hey, where are we going next?” Zayn asked over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Niall so the Elders knew he wasn’t staring at them. Louis and his ridiculous virtues of privacy…

“Manhattan,” Harry said, excited to see that particular borough after so much time since his last viewing. He’d only been there once, but it had been incredibly memorable, and he’d like to see how it had held up. Hopefully it had done a little better than the rest of the city.

“Alright, Niall and I will go get the bus. Rest of you stay here,” Zayn said, taking off with Niall and leaving the butler couple and ‘straight’ couple to deal with the pesky Elders themselves.

“Why get the bus at all? Be faster to just go,” Louis said, closing his eyes and turning his face up to soak in the rain. Their group had hurried under a tree to try and stay dry, but it wasn’t working out well for any of them.

“Because if we want to stay there for awhile, we should have our things with us,” Harry reasoned, finally considering himself washed enough to retrieve the two outfits from Erakus that Zayn had looted for both of them, considering Harry’s last articles had been irreversibly soiled with blood. He put on the garments one by one, experiencing a bit of resistance when he tried to get the black slacks on his wet legs, but it was an ultimate success. He then slipped (forced) his arms into the white button-up, and wrangled black wool socks on his feet with the dress shoes one by one so the socks never touched the dirt. The outfit was a bit too fancy to be getting into in the pouring rain, but he cared less than you did.

“Just kinda standing here,” Louis snapped from behind him, rolling Harry’s eyes instantly as the Roman slipped the last button on his shirt through its designated opening. Zayn hadn’t retrieved underwear for either of them, but getting shoes and socks was impressive enough that Harry obviously didn’t care—this felt better on his skin anyhow.

“Yes, I understand that,” Harry sighed as he completed the look with the pinstripe overcoat, taking the second outfit out of Erakus’s awaiting arms and leaving the minuscule cover of the tree to return to Louis and help him get dressed. He balanced everything as Louis snatched things off the pile, the King grumbling every few seconds over the position they’d found themselves in.

Louis’ outfit was remarkably similar to Harry’s in the level of fanciness, but the measurements were drastically smaller, and Louis was both annoyed and grateful that Zayn had kept that in mind. He put on his plain black overcoat last and tied the coarse laces of his shoes, carding both hands through his hair and mourning over how ridiculous it would look when it was dried. “Now what?” he asked, standing on his tiptoes to kiss his classy Roman and sighing happily once the contact had been acquired.

“Wait for Zayn on Close Avenue,” Harry replied, looking back to their group in the shadows. “Come on, guys,” he called, keeping his elbow bent at a sophisticated angle for Louis to link his arm through.

They walked in the rain toward the main road, gathering around a lamppost that didn’t even work while they watched the horizon for their bus. An annoying five minutes went by of Louis griping over the weather, and then they were finally saved, each immortal piling into their ride and shaking their hair as soon as they escaped the outdoor shower.

“Jeez, we’re soaked,” Tanner laughed, flailing his limbs and impersonating a lawn sprinkler.

“Okay, no,” Louis barked, punching Tanner in the chest before he was able to transfer his personal collection of water droplets to everyone else. “Zayn, drive,” he said to their loyal travel guide, walking down to his couch but not sitting on it because he didn’t want it to get wet.

Harry agreed with the notion and remained stood, each couple save for Zayn and Niall taking up a spot in the bus to stand in each other’s arms the whole way to Manhattan.

 

\---

 

“Penthouse,” Harry said to the concierge with the coffee-coloured handlebar mustache, dropping an uncounted amount of American money onto the luxurious desk of The Plaza Hotel on 5th Avenue.

“This amount won’t get you a penthouse,” the man chuckled haughtily, sneering at the damp bills that had been placed before him. “Not even close.”

“Really?” Harry asked dubiously, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He hadn’t dipped any toes into the economy of luxury in two hundred years...excuse him for incorrectly judging the prices of today. “Well what will that get me?” he pressed, using his lure to change the clerk’s snobby attitude.

The man straightened the frown in his face and began to count the bills, and the rest of the group chipped in whatever they had to positively alter the result. The clerk, named Lester, added the bills into the collection and visibly mouthed the progressing amount in his hands, ultimately setting it down beside a binder of roster and guest paperwork and meeting Harry’s eyes conclusively. “A suite,” he said simply, waiting on whatever his customers would decide.

“Make it a good suite,” Harry requested with his lure, putting an enamoured glaze over Lester’s eyes.

“How does a two-bedroom Edwardian Suite sound?” Lester suggested, his words slurred as though he were talking in his sleep—not too far off the mark.

“Delightful,” Louis replied, keeping his lure in check so Lester didn't snap out of Harry’s completely. “We’ll take it,” he said, stepping away from the desk to let his group handle the logistics while he admired the interior of the hotel. And what wasn’t to admire?

The lobby was decked out in pretentiously royal colours of deep red and sparkling gold, and every chandelier and embellishment undoubtedly cost the price of some of these rooms on their own. Palm ferns and other botanical decorations fanned out from their polished pots, and Louis was surprised they'd even allowed dirt to be brought in here for their growth.

The red drapes that petaled the lobby windows were thick and leaden, the windows themselves reached all the way to the high coffered ceiling, and those multiple trayed edges were all plated in gold...or at least gold coloured paint...but probably gold. The floor was cream-checkered and marbled—fairly simplistic in accordance to its opposing face—but it did a great job of echoing every step one took like they were in a gothic cathedral.

The chairs and tables that were strewn tastefully across the expanse of the lobby were predictably filled with the butts of the rich, and iced alcoholic beverages (with perfectly shaped cubes) occupied almost every overdone coaster on the tables’ surfaces.

Half of the human men inhabiting the room wore suits with ties, and had briefcases and hefty leather bags at their feet. Cigars rested between their fingers of the hands that clamped around the latest issue of The New York Times, and their hair was slicked and gelled to the status of wet seals. Their women wore either pencil skirts with matching coats and frilly neck pieces or sweater dresses in pastel nude colour pallets; all paired with white or peach leather gloves on their dainty hands, Mary Jane shoes or kitten heels on their feet, and big, obnoxious pomaded curls in the bangs of their hair. Old money.

Other men in the lobby wore sweater vests and corduroy pants in a wide variety of earthy greens and browns, knitted scarves, and comparatively tacky shoes. Their women donned a collection of floor-length maxi dresses, cobalt blue or sunny yellow jumpsuits, and platform boots. Though the material was sophisticated for the ravaged economy of ‘73, their status was still blatantly clear. New money.

Louis fit in most with the old money side of the room—maybe not now at a glance, but he did in his head—these were his types of snobs and he knew them well. No matter the decade or era, there is a foul stench to rich that hangs over the generational wealthy, a black and expensive cloud of entitlement. When you're the cultured product of old money, ‘rich’ is not only the having of an esteemed last name, the mere happenstance of a blood relation, or even a number in a bank account or size of an estate; to these individuals, ‘rich’ is a disease of the mind.

The wealthy and powerful are the bringers of greed; of selfishness and vanity. The wealthy rob the poor of everything, and they do it happily. Fleetingly. To be a wealthy family is to be heartless regarding the struggles of those below you. It is to be selectively blind to societal pain and discrimination—to be aristocratically cruel to the beggars and the weak in the world, and to do it with a smile. To deliver cold-hearted sneers and guffaws to the majority of the planet’s citizens with identical faces that all said “I’m glad I’m not that guy.”

This was the very epitome of Alexander the Great. Born to a King and bred with coveted education from the finest philosopher to ever live, he was as old money as they come. Given everything he’d ever wanted since he was an infant, Alexander had never known the harsh tribulations of the underfed, underdressed, and undervalued. And he hadn’t cared. Even more appalling, he hadn’t even realized he hadn’t cared at the time. He’d seen the citizens of Macedon as loyal members of the public, his thankful and adoring fans. He’d seen the slaves of his empire as lucky participants to be able to serve his family upfront.

But many of those unpaid workers hadn’t been nearly as worshiping as they’d seemed, and Alexander could only understand this now that he’d been born into Louis, and gained the memory of all his other lives wherein he’d lived in poverty at the bottom of the food chain. He’d grilled it into his soul that the poor were not faceless populations—they were persons deserving of kindness and charity—and he began to feel like shit for killing so many of them last night.

“Louis?” Harry asked behind him, a set of gaudy keys in his hand while the rest of the group waited a few metres away.

“Sorry,” Louis said with a clearing of his throat, spending a few more dedicated seconds on the old money patrons of the hotel and then tearing the heated gaze to Harry’s face instead, letting his expression soften like butter when he took in the shimmer of the Roman’s gem green eyes. His most valued sight to behold.

“Let’s go,” Harry said with slight confusion, scoping the room to find the objects of Louis’ hard concentration and giving up when nothing was particularly amiss.

They walked down a glinting hallway lined with autographs portraits of famous people over the years who have stayed in The Plaza since its building in 1907, and Louis had to smile in return at Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr smiling down at him from behind their shared canvas cage. His group came to the elevator and they piled in as an older couple shakily limped out, giving their keychains to the staff worker who operated the contraption to prove that they were indeed approved to climb to the sixteenth floor of the nineteen-story hotel. Of course nineteen stories was a loose term—there were nineteen available to the public (and that number also didn't include the suites that were three stories in themselves), and though Louixander was far more important that the general public, he was picking his battles tonight. Are you proud?

“I hope you enjoy your stay,” the elevator boy said monotonously cheerfully, if that makes sense, an obvious and grating routine in that well wish translating in his voice.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your shift,” Niall said in return, trying out his childlike lure for the very first time to brighten the boy’s gloomy night.

It seemed to work, which Louis was proud of the blonde for, and the boy that pulled a lever for an entire eight hours smiled in true happiness, wishing them many more fortune and greatness in their lives as they stepped out onto the sixteenth floor.

“Well done, Niall,” Louis said with a pat to his friend’s back, sharing a smile with him as they walked along the maroon rug that ran down the hall like a pompous runway.

They then came to the suite they’d booked, and all were perplexed by the fact that it had two entrances. They double-checked to be sure, and were convinced that both doors led to the same room. As a joke, half of them chose the left, while the other half that included Louis and Harry, stepped through the right. Upon entry, heavy breaths of awe left the lungs of all the immortals except the ancient Elders, but Louis had to admit it wasn’t half-bad.

The room was everything Louis had expected to see, and he hummed pleasantly into its spotless condition. The right door route had taken them past the set of doors that connected the other side of the suite of course, and one of the three bathrooms to the right. It then opened up into the main and comfortably spacious living room, and Louis walked around in a slow circle to catch every detail.

Against the left wall was a beige velvet couch sprinkled with an impractical amount of throw pillows, bookended by two glass top side tables with golden-based lamps, and an overhead copied painting of Queen Elizabeth I. At the foot of this couch was a marble coffee table with claw-footed legs that had a tri-layered plate selection of chocolates and cheeses, a bottle of their finest champagne in an ice bucket encircled by crystal flutes, and napkins that had been folded into artful roses upon its surface. If only he could drink.

On the other side of this coffee table were two clunky in-facing chairs of the same exquisite quality as everything else that flanked another unneeded table in-between, the surface of which only had a bouquet of pink roses to offer for its use.

Against the far and expansively windowed wall sat a work desk for the traveling businessman, complete with a brass telephone, a pad of ‘The Plaza’ monogramed stationery, and their own set of blue and black chrome pens beside it. How quaint.

Beyond the far right wall of the living room was one of the two bedrooms, that surely had its own bathroom and particular details, but Louis didn’t care enough to check. He plopped himself down on the couch and closed his eyes to take a breather, just as Marley opened the hallway doors to pop into their section.

“This place is whack,” he noted, followed into the living room by Erakus, Zayn, and Niall.

“It’s not that crazy,” Louis scoffed, kicking the snack tower over to slam his crossed heels down on the coffee table.

“Really?” Niall exclaimed, spinning in a circle and running to the other bedroom to get the full tour, coming back out hastily and shaking his head at the unimpressed King. “This is the fanciest place I’ve ever been!”

“Hey!” Harry snapped, taking a seat beside Louis and throwing his arm over the back of the couch, silently asking the King to lean into his side and smiling when he did. “Are you insulting my mansion?”

“I’m…” Niall paused, wondering if he actually was insulting Harry’s mansion. “Your mansion is more...creaky and creepy...than brightly elegant,” he said cautiously, flinching under the matching huffs from Harry and Martin.

“Consider yourself banned,” Harry muttered to the blonde, who was immediately and quite frantically apologetic.

“Save it,” Martin added to the spluttering blonde, taking up one of the two chairs across the couch and slouching down into it while Tanner chose his empty lap to lounge on.

“What’s on the other side?” Tanner vaguely asked the group who had taken the left door inside, too lazy to get up and venture there himself, especially after getting comfortable on his lover.

“Just another bedroom and bathroom, but it was decadent as all hell,” Erakus informed, skipping over to the desk chair to sit himself in, whereas Marley popped his butt up onto the desk itself.

“Mmm,” Tanner hummed lazily, his eyes following Zayn and Niall as they situated themselves on the chair next to theirs.

Louis couldn’t help laughing—all this room on the couch, and their group had decided to cram themselves into every other location available, including an actual _desk_. They’d rather stack themselves like pancakes than intrude on Harry and Louis’ space, and that was mightily respectable. “What do we do?” he asked before anyone asked what was amusing him so much, his hands coming up to grasp Harry’s and mindlessly caress the smooth skin of it. 

“Martin, Erakus, Tanner, and myself want a slaughter. You in?” Zayn asked, patting Niall’s thigh as if to apologize for going through with something the baby vampire disagreed with.

“Ugh. No,” Louis gagged, his quintessential need to kill having been met so ludicrously excessively that it had blasted out of his system like a pressure washer. He didn’t see himself committing any more atrocities of that variety for a damn while, that’s for sure. He still felt like shit over what he’d put his body through; just the thought of filling himself more grated his nerves. Everything in moderation, folks.

“Harry?” Zayn addressed to cover both Elders’ consensuses.

“I’m with Louis. Even if I wanted to, if he didn’t, I wouldn’t...but he doesn't, and I don’t in the slightest, so I won’t,” Roman said with an exceptionally confusing and roundabout sentence structure, earning a slow nod from Zayn that translated to “I think I get it.”

“I do have a request, though,” Louis stressed, meeting Zayn’s expectant eyes and smirking deviously at the mere thought.

“Oh now I _must_ know,” Zayn chuckled, leaning forward with Niall in his lap to hear whatever this ‘request’ was.

“Harry and I went after the poor and the homeless. My addict-raddled mind had rationalized it as they suffered anyway, wouldn’t be missed, and had no worth or value of any kind. I don’t know, I think I massacred the wrong kind of people. Now that I’ve put more thought into it, I realize they are only the unfortunate victims of the class-categorized paradigm civilization has always run on, and it’s _high time_ to damage the other side of the bottom-feeders. So go after the stupidly rich.”

“Oh I am _so down with that_ ,” Zayn said passionately, knocking Niall right off his lap as he leapt to his feet. “Are you guys coming or not?” he asked the other takers of villainy, standing tall and proud like a beacon of vigilante justice.

“Yeah, what are you guys going to do, though?” Erakus asked Harry, Louis, Niall, and Marley, the four who would be left behind.  

“I’m taking you sightseeing,” Harry crooned to Louis like they were newlyweds, kissing his hair and tickling his thigh.

“ _Hah_! Sightseeing, you _sap_ ,” Louis cackled, smacking Harry’s hand away and twisting around to stare him down. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Harry confirmed obviously, pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the windows. “We’re in New York City. Not just that, _Manhattan_. I was doing some reading on a map, and this very borough has _the two tallest_ buildings in the entire world on Greenwich St, and that’s only like...probably four miles southwest of here. You can’t tell me you don’t want to see the world’s tallest buildings,” he challenged knowingly, well aware that Alexander had a particular fascination with structural anomalies and mighty landmarks—one of the many worldviews he’d gained as a greedy and glory-seeking King.

“Alright fine, we’ll go _sightseeing_ ,” Louis drawled, giggling into Harry’s neck and showering it with tiny nips and kisses.

“What about you?” Zayn redirected at Marley and Niall, wishing he could take Niall with him, but if he didn’t want to join the murder, he certainly wouldn’t want to watch it. Besides, with Niall opposed, Zayn didn’t want him there anyway—he didn’t want his lover’s opinion of him to irreversibly change for the worse when he was just _barely_ accepting that Zayn was participating at all.  

“I’ll take him somewhere cool,” Marley vowed, ruffling Niall’s hair and giving him a grin that said he’s the true life of the party.

“Thanks, Mar,” Niall said happily, overjoyed that he one: wouldn’t have to third-wheel behind Louis and Harry’s romantic frolicks, and two: wouldn’t just have to sit in the hotel room by himself either. Both of those options had been shitty and he’s incredibly grateful to have been given a third and ideal alternative.

“Wait, hold on. ‘Mar’ is _my_ nickname,” Martin said with a frown, prepared to fight to the death over who got the title of Mar. Harry had been calling him that since before Marley had been born, so by default, it was his first and he had full rights to it.

“You’ll always be the only Mar to me, Mar,” Harry professed, dragging his butler’s eyes to him and giving him a wink when he knew he’d see it.

“Alright fine,” the original Mar accepted, his main problem with a second Mar settling itself if Harry promised to stay committed to him alone.

“ _Now_ do we go?” Erakus laughed, corralling his group to exit the suite so they could all split up and go treat New York however they had in mind.

“Yes, now is fine,” Louis confirmed, heaving himself off the couch and following his impatient family out the right-side door, handing out the other two keys that hadn’t yet been given and making sure Harry had his in his pocket.

“So we’ll just all come back here at sunrise, right?” Martin asked, meeting everyone’s eyes to drill the concept into their heads.

“Yeah, make sure you do…” Louis mused, an obvious continuation hovering in the air. “...Also, be careful out there. Vampires are everywhere in this city and we don’t know what kind they are. There’s gotta be a shit ton of predators around, and it’s best not to wander into a heavily populated area of them, alright? If anything goes seriously wrong, come back here at once because Harry and I will probably be back first, and we’ll figure out what to do. Got it?” he asked sternly, documenting the individual nods of understanding and relaxing his shoulders. “Good.”

They traveled back down the elevator, managed by the same enlightened boy, and crossed the grandeur lobby of the establishment toward the towering double doors, letting the employees open them for them and murmuring thank you’s to the wishes of cordially awaited returns. Once outside on the sidewalk of 5th Avenue, the group all hugged and reminded each other to stay safe, and what the decided plan was if they _weren’t_ safe; then, when there were no more useful or relevant words to say, they split up.

Harry and Louis calmly walked down the busy and blinding environment of 5th Avenue and waited until they found a worthy alley that no human would be in to notice them soaring up to the top of a building. From their location in Midtown Manhattan, getting to the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan would take an hour at least to trek on foot. So they would be using the tried and true travel-by-roof method. The moment they found one such uninhabited alley between two neighboring skyscrapers they hadn’t taken the time to identify, they perpendicularly raced each other up to the top, almost feeling the need to pant when they’d finally gotten there.

They stood and looked out over the whole of Manhattan, pointing interesting things out to each other and cupping their ears to hear what they were saying over the strong gushes of wind. The streets below were dotted with the hoods of yellow taxi cabs, but they looked more like vehicular mice from up here, and the massive billboards of Times Square could have been little television screens.

They turned their gazes south toward the rounded edge of Manhattan, and from their vantage point, they could almost see the towers from here, thanks to the subsiding of the earlier rain. The borough seemed to dip to ground level between the skyscrapers of Midtown and Lower. Which was admittedly a problem, because there wouldn’t be roofs to hop across all the way down, but they’d had far worse inconveniences than this—so away they hopped.

 

\---

 

“Well I'll be,” Louis breathed the moment he was only metres away from the bases of the astoundingly high towers. As Louis, he'd heard about their construction, finished just last month, and he'd seen pictures of them in the newspaper so he'd known what to expect. But as Alexander, these twin gargantuan statures stretched far beyond the realm of his wildest dreams, and he was floored with dumbfounded fascination. “And to think humans did this,” he chuckled approvingly, admittedly amazed that those little creatures could build something so high with their fragile little bodies.

“You wanna go to the top?” Harry asked mischievously, waggling his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Of _those_?” Louis blurted in disbelief, pointing a finger at their colossal height while he bored his wide eyes into Harry’s.

“Yes _those_...come on, it's a challenge. Neither of us have ever climbed something so high, it'll be fun,” Harry reasoned, knocking his elbow against Louis’ arm repeatedly to initiate the race.

“Can we even...is this even possible?” Louis pondered, able to confess that the concept of attempting the feat was tempting. Just one more accomplishment to check off the list, but it was worth five in itself.

“Won't know until we try,” Harry shrugged, pulling on Louis’ sleeve and pouting in want. “Let’s get some blood first. _Without_ killing, but just a little life to get us goin’. If we _do_ get to the top I'm gonna want to fuck you there,” he said impishly, winning Louis’ mind over in an instant.

“After you, good sir,” the King chuckled, skipping along the unused dirt mounds of the former construction site and waiting patiently as Harry used his Elder lure to draw someone in. There was a vast difference between lure and _Elder_ lure, and though it has been showcased before, he'll explain.

Lure is the compelling effect that vampires can hold over any human they make eye contact with or are in close proximity to, like elevator boy, for example; _Elder lure_ on the other hand is that same ability amped up to its highest possible capacity. Elders may use it to control humans and vampires alike (that are generally younger than themselves), and the hypnotic spell of this lure is nearly unbreakable when it is cast. Among these differing and superior traits is the ability to exude it from one's center core like a radio signal, bringing the dazed victims within its range right to them like they were magnetized, completely without the need for a simple thing like eye contact. _Ahh_ , the enjoyments of being old.

Harry caught the human he'd sensed in his reach and waited as it shuffled over, giving it a sweet smile to comfort it because it was visibly confused as to why it was suddenly moving in a direction it hadn't told itself to go. Once the base of eye contact was made, the human was even more happy to approach, walking straight into Harry’s arms and bending its neck back—funny how humans always seemed to know what to do without any prior instruction.

Harry moaned in satisfaction and his subject did too, drinking long and slow to keep his adventurous fangs and murderous tendencies in check. After he was finished, he handed the man over to Louis and watched the pair extremely  carefully, breathing a quick sigh of relief when Louis let him go after a few sizeable gulps.

They released the human back into the overpopulated wild and fixed their eyes to the tops of the towers, both deciding to go for the left one of the two. They stretched their limbs and made a few practice leaps to get their blood pumping, finally rearing back and catapulting themselves forward to get the needed running start, clambering at full speed up the side of the structure and getting maybe halfway before their muscles began to protest.

“Zeus what the fuck!” Louis gritted, using his hands to cheat and running up the building like a cat instead, looking over to find Harry had already adopted that method himself.

“Keep going,” Harry wheezed, refusing to look down as they passed the two-thirds mark of their ascension. Even for an immortal, falling from this height would hurt like a bitch.

“You think I'm stopping? I'm not a quitter like you,” Louis goaded, only doing so to increase Harry’s determination to prove him wrong, sensing a disturbance in Harry’s confidence the further they climbed.

“Excuse—” Harry exclaimed, not even bothering to tack ‘me’ at the end because Louis quickened his pace and darted two floors ahead of him, and now was the time for serious and vigorous concentration. He activated every muscle group in his body and propelled himself higher and higher, desperate to at least tie with his King before they'd reached the top.

Louis knew the Roman’s fighting spirit had returned so he let himself slow inconspicuously, utilizing such subtleties because he didn't want Harry knowing he was helping him in any way. That would inevitably ignite a fierce argument and best not to have one of _theirs_ whilst over a thousand sodding feet in the air—aka, a long fucking way to fall down after getting angrily thrown.

A few more heroic jumps and they flung themselves over the beam barrier of the roof at equal times, landing in panting heaps on the concrete head of the manmade, immobile titan, and laughing at the clouds they were nearly in the thick of.

“Well that was exciting,” Louis noted in exhaustion, his gleaming Roman rolling over on a propped elbow to hover above him and dip his head down to his lips. Louis smiled and snaked his arms around Harry’s neck, rolling him the rest of the way over so he was directly on top of him.

“That was _invigorating_ ,” Harry corrected in the basis of agreement, feeling like that experience just deserved a somewhat bigger word than ‘exciting.’

“Hey, you're the adrenaline junkie of us, if you remember. It never was me. But I was shocked at you, you got a little worried there for a second. How could you let me surpass you on that?” Louis scolded, sinking his hands into the soft jungle of Harry’s curls and tussling them as he saw fit.

“I'm gettin’ old, baby. I'm not the hyper adult vampire I used to be. You keep forgetting you have a new body; I know it's because your mind is the same, and you still have all your Elder qualities, but that doesn't change the facts, Louixander. You are an ancient wrapped up in a second chance—I am a physical fossil,” Harry chuckled, holding himself over Louis’ body and fondly gazing at the timeless wonders of his beauty.

“Well are you gonna be the Emperor of empty promises?” Louis challenged, gesturing around them to remind the Roman of where they were, and what that meant. “Or are you gonna use that fossil of yours to fuck this ‘second chance’ like a teenager?” he purred, already starting on the buttons of Harry’s shirt.

Harry snorted and popped the rest of his buttons open in one sweep, bending down and kissing up Louis’ neck while he palmed at his hardening crotch. “That—” he began, moaning when Louis gasped and rut against his hand, smiling in smug satisfaction when Louis blindly grasped at the waistband of his slacks to free the cock he was so desperately itching for. “—that I can do.”

 

\---

 

“That was freeing,” Louis laughed, sitting on the ground with his knees bent at his chest to tie his shoes.

“We should definitely do this again sometime,” Harry laughed, helping Louis up and pointing west toward an illuminated island. “You see that?”

“Lady Liberty?” Louis asked, puzzled to Harry’s point. Glorious as she was, he didn't know exactly what Harry was getting at here.

“Oh, you know of her?” Harry asked innocently, keeping his attention on her presence because it was every bit as fantastic as he’d expected, clear as day thanks to his superior ocular prowess.

“What do you mean, Harry? Of course I do, I was born in 1955. Everyone knows about the Statue of Liberty,” Louis exclaimed, comprehensive of why Harry had concluded he wouldn’t know, but still exasperated he’d let the thought leave his lips before a second round of consideration.

“Oh yeah...I’ve never seen it,” Harry noted, shrugging as he squinted his eyes at her surroundings. “She was built after I’d come through here...Martin and I...we uh...what _is_ that stuff around her on the water?” he begged in confusion, his speech having taken the backseat as he’d tried to formulate what he was looking at.

Louis peered over and studied the suspicious discolouration in the water, slapping his forehead and laughing in disgust when he finally figured it out. “That’s gasoline,” he said with confidence, easily recognizing that rainbow-tinted glint upon the surface of The Hudson.

“What!” Harry scoffed, appalled humans would let something like that shroud the infamous splendor of their most prized creation. “Oil?”

“Yup,” Louis quipped, crossing his arms in disappointment as he leered on at the condition of the undeserving monument. “This oil crisis is outdoing itself. Biggest panic of the fucking decade, oil is nowhere to be found, and yet I managed to find it. It’s all here—floating around Lady Liberty,” he muttered, jolting when a human scent appeared out of nowhere and a door to the roof burst open, unveiling a wary man in a worker hat and attire who was clearly looking for intruders.

“Over here,” Louis said for him, smiling at the Roman elbow that knocked into his side.

“I knew it! I _knew_ I heard something up here!” the man announced, taking angry steps toward the pair and wagging his disapproving finger at them like they’d broken a family vase and swept the shards under a rug to cover their tracks. “What are you doing up here? How did you even get _out_ here? I’ve been on watch all evening!” he accused, placing his hands on his hips and waiting for an answer.

Harry and Louis could tell this man was a Father. His paternal scolding was endearing, though probably unignorable for his children, and Louis found himself smiling at the round man who had only good intentions in his soul. But before they could respond at all, an earth-shattering noise pelted their ears, and they raced to the northern edge of the tower, leaning over it and trying to look down into the pit of the city. “What the hell is that?” Louis asked, putting his all into focusing on the noise so he could pick it out of the wind again.

“Excuse me!” the man cried, following them to the well-guarded edge and shutting up when he heard it too. “What is that…”

The sound they were all hearing was that of an unprecedented catastrophe. Screams began to fill the entirety of New York, and the scent of visceral panic nearly traveled all the way to the Elders’ noses. “That’s not our group, is it?” Harry asked, blind to the man that stood beside them and leaned for the railing to watch the unseen sound.

“It’s too big to be our group,” Louis negated at once, growing more and more anxious the longer they stayed up here. “Besides, they’re just in Midtown...this is all of Manhattan…”

“We need to go down,” Harry said obviously, gearing up to leap with his King to the next tallest building within viable reach, so they could in turn use the differing heights of Lower Manhattan as a downward ladder to ground level.

It was when Harry put a foot atop the barrier that separated them from an unprotected ledge that the man snapped into focus and darted out to stop him. “Don’t do it!” he cried passionately, having not listened to a word their conversation and automatically assumed the worst, nearly ripping Harry’s shirt as he tried to yank him back. “You have so much to—”

“Live for? Were you gonna say live for?” Louis outright cackled, bending over and clutching his stomach as he lost himself to hysterics. It may be a terrible time to laugh, but he decided to take the chance of amusement while he still could. Before nothing would be amusing anymore.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to die,” Harry said, prying the man’s beefy fingers off his shirt and walking him backward to keep him out of the way.

“I’d recommend you staying up here, Henry,” Louis said sternly, referencing the name badge on his thick custodial jumpsuit. “Things aren’t going too great down there right now,” he said, noticing Harry was jittery with nerves and itching to get into the city.

“I...I have a family,” the man argued, watching with wide eyes as the two boys fearlessly stepped over the barrier and stood on the ledge like they weren’t atop one of the two highest buildings in the world.

“Your call,” Louis said, grabbing Harry’s hand and thrice thrusting their joined hands down like they were playing a two-team match of rock-paper-scissors with an invisible competitor to count to three, the lovers then shooting off the tower and flying through the air toward the closest building of a smaller size.

“How are you possible?!” they heard screamed from behind them, smirking to themselves until they remembered the panic that was ensuing below, promptly forgetting all about janitor Henry on the tower.

They hopped down the renowned skyscrapers of New York City until they came to one that wouldn’t severely damage them from jumping off of, running the descension of its frame and using the last few seconds of time to switch between their building and the next one over, zig-zagging down to slow their speed. They said nothing upon landing and unanimously ran straight into the most jarring sight they’d ever beheld, staring in silent horror at their worst nightmare come true.

A vampire riot. “What in the _fuck_ is happening here?” Louis cried in outrage, walking out into the middle of the street because all the cars had stopped and their drivers had fled. Humans ran screaming from the freshly turned vampires that seemed to be all over the fucking place, and teenage or adult immortals continued to turn humans and then leave them to their own defenses.

The _sensible_ thing to do after turning a human is to stick with them and show them the ropes of vampirism; train them how to be one of their species, and educate them on all the shit that comes with the title—ditching them instead meant creating a confused and completely misguided immortal who had no idea what they were, what their cravings meant, how to reconcile with said cravings, and most importantly, how to stop them altogether. This was a fucking disaster.

“This is it…” Harry said softly, mourning the fact he hadn’t seen this coming when it did as well as he probably should have. Being so high above ground had dulled their senses of what was happening below, and maybe they wouldn't have been able to stop it completely, but surely a warning would have been nice.

“What!” Louis shouted over the screams, punching one baby vampire away from chasing a horrified human down the street.

“This is it! _This_ is Auron’s plan. What we’ve been waiting for. It just started…” Harry clarified with a stronger voice, joining Louis in fending the ferocious and instinctively ignorant new immortals off from turning or killing the frantically retreating humans.  

“Induce a panic in New York City?” Louis questioned dubiously, hissing at every vampire he saw to distract them from their chases and getting into a brawl with one of the older ones who was perpetuating the crisis. “Would you _stop_!” he demanded of him, delivering a flying kick to the vampire’s chest and sending him right into the side of an abandoned taxi.

The Elder couple stormed off to get back to Midtown and regroup with their scattered family, stopping turnings from happening whenever they could and ordering the humans to get someplace safe, though where that could be was heavily debatable.

“I think this is...Louis, this is almost surely happening across the globe right now,” Harry said when he had the time, pulling Louis into him by the sleeve so he could get this across and have it plainly internalized. “This was it, Louis. A calculated attack on every major city. A mass turning of humans who don’t know any better, and won’t know how to control themselves. Full, world-wide exposure of our kind. All at once,” he said with a wavering inflection, his shock and worry written all over his face. There was no coming back from this. Vampires could never hide again. It was all done now. Humans would never forget this.

“Hadrian!” a vampire they most certainly did not know shouted like a siren from an alley, all surrounding adult vampires whipping their heads around to smirk at the Elders in victory. Like they’d found the golden ticket in the chocolate bar.  

“Time to go,” Louis quipped in a high pitch, snatching Harry’s wrist and tearing down W Broadway to find 5th Avenue and take that back to The Plaza.

“How the fuck did they know my—”

“Think of it as a warrant out for your arrest,” Louis shouted back through the cutting wind. “I’d imagine Auron has given out a call to arms over you by now...probably stressed to every faction of his empire that you are the most important thing for him to find, and offered eternal glory to whoever found you first,” he supposed in disgust, veering right to pop out on 5th and committing to slap any close immortals out of the way when they lunged for the petrified humans of NYC.

They trekked the whole of the avenue until they came upon the intricate and square hotel—that was rather short in comparison to some of the amazonian structures of the city—and they blasted through the doors in an aggressive frenzy, offhandedly noticing no workers were in immediate view, and trampling up the staircases to the sixteenth floor.

“What the fuck does this mean, how the _fuck_ could we stop something like this?” Harry roared as they stomped down the hallway, his rhetorical musings falling on deaf ears as Louis drowned in his own thoughts of helpless tumult.

Louis kicked the right-side door open and spilled into the living room, groaning in relief when the scent of their family had turned out to be their literal presence within the suite and not the lingering traces of them from before they’d all left.

“Louis! Harry!” Zayn said in elation, jogging over and crushing the Roman in his arms, while Niall did the same to Louis.

Louis returned the hug with a promise of their well-being but his arms fell when he got a good look at the room. He saw Erakus and Marley, wrapped up in each other’s arms like they should be, and Zayn had evidently returned from the slaughter as well, but neither Martin nor Tanner were anywhere to be seen, and Louis knew they weren’t just in the other room.

“Where the fuck are they?” Louis demanded, Harry’s eyes flying open and instantly filling with pain over finding the room empty of his cherished creation.

“Shit, where’s Martin?” the Roman added himself, staring into the faces of the ones who had allegedly massacred with him and the impulsive Tanner.

“We—we got separated, I don’t know. We split off when we started, and we tried to—to find them when everything went to shit, but we couldn’t,” Erakus stuttered, his stomach having already been in knots this entire time over losing their friends in such a critical time.

“I’m gonna go look for them,” Harry said as he dashed out the door, making it two steps before Louis tackled him to the floor.

“Absolutely not, are you crazy?” Louis shouted to him, flipping him over and hissing in his face. “I am not letting you out of my—” He paused, sniffing the air and slapping at Harry’s chest to invite him to do the same.

Just as Harry picked up on the detection, Martin and Tanner suddenly burst through the exit door to the emergency staircase, and Harry nearly sobbed in relief, scrambling out from under Louis and hanging onto his apologetic and notably battered butler with reassured panic.

“We’re okay,” Martin confirmed, dragging his master down the hall and through the doors while Louis snaked an arm around the jumpy Tanner.

The rest of their family erupted into expected conversation that showcased their joy at having the butler couple back, and after their much requested explanation for their tardiness, in other words the recount of the giant brawl they’d apparently gotten trapped in the middle of, the group calmed down to devote their thoughts to planning the next step.

“Alright, let’s go,” Harry said before any of them could even conceptualize a plan, throwing their bags onto the couch to be easily grabbed as he snapped his fingers toward the phone by the desk for Zayn to hand over.

“Go? Go where?” Louis asked, his eyes following Zayn as he grabbed the base of the telephone and held it out for Harry, stretching the cord out as far as it could go.

“Those were Auron’s vampires and they saw us. They know we’re here and it won’t take Auron long to figure that out either. We gotta get out of the country, and fast,” he said, already dialing some international number that no one present could place.

“But who are you _calling_?” Martin asked to the secondary nodding of Louis, the pair furrowing their eyebrows when Harry didn’t even look up as the call went through and the mysterious recipient, in a thick English accent, questioned who the fuck was calling them at a time like this.

“Liam?” the Roman asked hopefully, cutting off the ravings of said gentleman at once and consequently invoking a silence so dense you could hear the radio waves through the phone lines. “...It’s Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you guys he'd be in this. :D  
> Listen yall, I straight up called The Plaza THREE SEPARATE TIMES to try and find out what the ratings would have been in the 70's, but they kept asking for MY personal information for their personal information and redirecting me to all these booking people, so I gave up. That's why there's no specific price, cuz i can't fucking gauge it. I already did so much fucking research on the interior of the Plaza and the Edwardian Suites that I fucking gave up.  
> Secondly, there was indeed an oil spill that surrounded the Statue of Liberty in 1973.
> 
> Also, when they came back to hotel after everything went nuts, the slaughter group had since cleaned themselves off and changed clothes while they'd waited. And yes, they went to a fancy goldman sachs type shindig and fucked shit up. Only a few chapters to go of this sequel and hoyyyy boy is the ending a firework.  
> Also, I actually shed a tear writing about Harry and Louis looking at the towers together, did you? it's always too soon for that lol.  
> Until next time, darlings.


	27. Bennie and the Jet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i'm shamefully late, but it's not MY FAULT! First Harry ruins and saves my life with his SNL performance, holy shit Ever Since New York is soooo beautiful. Not to mention The Plaza and SNL studios are nine blocks away on the SAME STREET. Both on 5th avenue. It was weird. (i noticed it back when they got to the hotel and he was in real life rehearsing at the studio). Kinda like how I wrote Louis' arrest a night before the airport mention. Psychic, bitch.  
> So anyway, that was all fine and all, BUT THEN HARRY MOTHERFUCKING STYLES GOT A TATTOO OF 'JACKSON' ON HIS ARM!!! JUST JACKSON. AND THAT'S MY SODDING NAME!!!  
> So I hyperventilated for another thirty minutes straight, and somewhere in that time decided I'm getting a tattoo of his name in the same font and location. Haha sorry, Harry. You started it. Enjoy!

“Oi. Where are you going?” Louis asked Niall, who had started to veer off toward the parking lot as soon as they’d tumbled out of The Plaza.

“To the...bus?” Niall responded quizzically, flinching at every nearby scream that penetrated his ears.

“We can’t _take_ the bus, you lummox, the roads are blocked,” Louis sighed impatiently as he jabbed an index finger at the desolated taxis that clotted 5th Avenue (like traffic moved faster than this in New York City anyway), his eyes scanning the streets that were still crowded with the baby vampire frenzy—which showed no signs of stopping.

“Louis’ right, on foot is the only option we have,” Harry said, steering his lover down W 58th Street as the group huddled together to stay on high alert of their surroundings.

“To _Queens_?” Niall squeaked in incredulity, quickening his pace and staying within the borders of the circle the eldest of the group had formed around him and Tanner.

“Maybe _you've_ never run far distances with your immortal speed, Niall, but it's certainly plausible. Harry and I have run countries at a time,” Louis said over his shoulder, picking up the nearest rock at his feet and chuckling it right into the forehead of a clueless baby vampire. “Get the fuck out of here!” he shouted at her, pulling his group along the sidewalk.

Zayn unfolded the map in his hands he’d grabbed from The Plaza and held it out in front of him, trying to find the best way to get from Manhattan to Queens. They could technically just swim but all their stuff would get trashed, and their bags were all they had left now. “Okay well...yeah, let’s go through the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. It’s further south so it’ll be more of a straight shot to JFK,” he informed, checking out to get to the tunnel and closing the map when he drilled it into his head.

“A tunnel sounds like a terrible idea across the East River,” Harry groaned, accepting the plan regardless because what did it matter? They were all fucked anyway. Liam had told him to get to the John F. Kennedy International Airport as fast as possible because he had a private hangar with a jet that would take them to southern England, so the most important thing was a good route to the airport, and if the tunnel would offer that, then they’d have to take it. “But we’ll do it,” he said to voice his inner thoughts, looking behind him to silently ask Zayn for directions.

“We’re gonna go down 58th until 2nd Avenue, then take a right and essentially follow that south all the way down. Tunnel will obviously be on the left so we just need to keep an eye out for it,” he said, dashing over and prying a vampire off a bitten human before they could get turned. He hissed in its face and chucked the vampire a hefty distance away, subsequently barking at the human to get to higher ground. He then ran back and tightened the grouping of his family, keeping a close eye on their catastrophic surroundings.

“Ready to run?” Harry asked his group, entwining his fingers with Louis’ and giving him the most comforting smile he could muster.

“I think so?” Niall asked, curious as to how easy it would be to run such a far distance. He’d sprinted north away from Times Square where he’d been ogling with Marley when Auron’s vampires had ascended like vultures and initiated this mess, but it hadn’t taken him hardly any time at all to reach The Plaza. From Manhattan, through a tunnel to Long Island, and all the way across the district of Queens into the southern region to a damn airport was quite a bit more running at once than he’d ever tackled before. Would he slow them down? Surely being tennis captain hadn’t given him the training necessary for something like this…

“You’ll be fine,” Zayn assured with a pat on his back, bittersweet that Niall’s new immortal experiences encompassed a lot of uncommonly terrifying circumstances. He dreamed of a life wherein they could have taken it slow together—had all the time in the world to discuss and experiment with the little perks of vampirism—but that had been ripped from them before they’d had the chance. Too bad.

“Let’s go,” Louis said, taking off with Harry to reach 2nd Avenue and get this journey over with. He had to force himself not to stop every time he saw a group of humans getting turned or killed because they would never reach their destination if he did. But it hurt. It hurt to watch bodies tripping down roads and fighting for their lives. To watch vampires take what they wanted without any idea of why they wanted it; no concept of the fact that they didn’t actually need it. This was an unforgivable turn of events, and with Auron as the vampire to blame, Harry and Louis had never felt more dangerous in their lives. They would stop him—they had to.

The group pounded their feet down the street en route to 2nd, only coming in physical contact with vampires who were directly in front of them and easy to punch as they went. Vampires trying out their new speed would match their pace every once in awhile, blurring the edges of reality alongside them, and they did go out of their way to knock those ones off course, discouraging them from trying to run up to or with them. _We are not your friends._

This speed, if Louis hadn’t explained it before, was more like everything slowing down to match you, versus you speeding up to blow past everything else. You still were, in essence, but that’s not how you perceived it. To you it was like stepping through halted time; being able to talk slowly to someone beside you, have an excess of time to think and consider things as you go; but to the outside, you passed so fast you were a complete blur, and impossible for human eyes to focus on.

They came to 2nd Avenue unexpectedly and slid frantically to change course, slamming into forgotten taxis and limousines, all grunting from the impact and straightening out to run south. Zayn had taken Niall into his arms to keep him safe, considering he was much faster than Niall was, and didn’t feel quite comfortable with letting Niall trail behind him instead of in front. Tanner was luckily keeping up with Martin without the use of obvious effort, and Louis was sure it was because he’d been more aggressive so far in his vampiric existence—going on massacres certainly amped your inhuman qualities. You never really came back from that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis noticed an adult vampire running parallel to them a few blocks over, only appearing when they zoomed by a break in the choking buildings, and he elbowed Harry in the side as a warning but the Roman seemed to be on top of it.

“I know,” Harry agreed, looking behind him to check whether or not his other friends had picked up on it. Zayn, Martin, Erakus, and Marley all gave him sharp nods, and he could even tell that Tanner and Niall were aware as well, so now they were all stuck in a waiting game to see what their pursuer would do. Veering off to fight him may not be the best decision because it would certainly lose them time, but should they get rid of him anyway for the sole sake of protecting their identity? Would he run off and gather more of Auron’s vampires if they let him get away?

They decided to take the first option regardless and pretended to ignore him, Louis perceiving nearly everything through his clever use of peripheral vision to keep the stalker in check. They barreled down the length of 2nd Avenue until they reached the iconic passage of Queens-Midtown Tunnel they’d decided to venture, shooting themselves left to enter through its gloomy mouth, finding every car backed up and abandoned (or filled with dead humans) as far as they could see.

Looks like Auron’s vamps and the freshly turned had done a number on this tunnel already. They'd unfortunately come too late and this was now the gruesome aftermath of a historic tragedy. The tunnel itself was nearly halfway between six and seven _thousand_ feet long, and the flickering overhead lights bathed it in a dark orange hue that spelled trouble in and of itself. Nice touch, though, it really did the unintended graveyard justice.

They jumped across the cars like stepping stones over a pond, the deserted frames buckling and shaking under their weight as they went. None had any words to fill the time with so they kept quiet, the only sounds being the clang of metal under their shoes. It was when they were halfway through the tunnel that Louis broke the silence, muttering a displeased “Shit” under his breath because they suddenly had malicious company, and that malicious company was closing in on both sides.

“Coulda seen that coming,” Zayn sighed, the group making an effort to slow gradually (for Niall and Tanner’s clumsy sakes) and formulate the plan.

“I don’t think taking that one shithead out would have done much,” Louis said, cracking his knuckles and sniffing out just how many heads they’d have to rip off.

“They’ve been following us from the start, no doubt,” Harry agreed, upset though that they’d been waiting on the other side of the tunnel; that was just inconvenient. Now a fight _had_ to happen.

“You two stay in the middle, okay? Only fight if you have to,” Louis stressed to the baby vampires in their midst, Tanner scowling at the dig to his ability but nodding to show respect of his Elder’s wishes.

“We still running?” Harry asked, finally able to hear the sounds of the vampires’ adversarial entry. They certainly weren’t wasting any time—the loyal and brainwashed members of Auron’s coffin fodder.

“Yup,” Louis said, flashing forward one second before the rest of his group, trying to get them the closest to the end of the tunnel as possible before they’d have to engage in this most tiresome altercation.

They used the left sidewalk for sufficient grounding and pounded their feet as though they were racing each other for the gold, sprinting and warping surrounding time for what seemed like a long and significant stretch, but what was _actually_ only fifteen or so seconds, before their enemies were in sight and nerve-rackingly not that far ahead.

Not nerve-racking for Louis and Harry, though.

“Go faster, you sons of bitches! Hurry up and come meet your deaths!” Louis taunted as he slid to a stop, countless amounts of faceless and worthless supporters of Auron roaring in fury as they naïvely adhered to Louis’ request, zeroing in on the Elder King as he calmly climbed up to the top of a taxi cab and outstretched his arms as if he were welcoming them home. “Harry, you take the back,” he said to his Roman, who stood atop the car behind him and faced the direction the lagging group would be coming from shortly.

“As you wish,” Harry said, not even glancing over his shoulder when he heard the first sounds of Louis orchestrating a beheading tempest. Marley and Erakus had taken Louis’ side to help out, and Zayn dutifully protected Niall and Tanner between the two cars the Elders had mounted, while Martin stood beside Harry, just as the first vision of their section came into view.

“Bit more than usual,” Martin said with an unperturbed sniff, crossing his arms and rolling his head on his neck to look up at his master.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, checking behind him to vaguely count the sixty or so vampires Louis’ group was tearing into, then looking to his front and finding the same general number, if not a bit less. “This is pretty similar to La Rèvolution,” he said in his unpracticed but familiar tongue of French, Martin giving a short laugh through his nostrils.

“Same odds too,” the butler agreed, bending his knees in preparation the closer the vampires rushed to them.

“Yeah, but this time we’ll win,” Harry stressed, happy in spite of everything that his cherished butler was being given the chance to subjectively reimburse the personal loss of France’s most devastating political movement.   

“Oui, c’est vrai,” Martin affirmed, turning his face back to the slime balls who would be _dead_ dead in a few short moments, smirking at their ignorantly confident faces and leaping off the roof of the car with a giddy Roman flying beside him. “Allons-y!”

They soared toward the bodies at their disposal like they were collision-coursed cars playing chicken, except nobody dodged last second and they slammed into each other louder than a gunshot. Harry’s claws sank into throats to subdue, skulls to vanquish; he bit into and tore skin from all foreign samples that got too close, and the screams that spawned from their affliction appeased his inner nature—his anciently insatiable bloodthirst.

Martin wasn’t doing bad either, jumping from victim to victim and intelligently making sure each was dead before moving on to the next. Zayn kicked the ones away who shoved through the cracks in the Roman and Frenchman’s defenses, but his time was tediously split between the east and western sides of the tunnel, constantly spinning around and checking all areas of potential access.

To make matters worse, as he was beheading one such opportunist, another leapt over the busied Erakus and descended on the weaker Niall. Zayn tried so hard to get away from his victim in time, but another only took its place, and before he knew it, he heard the sickening sounds of a crushed skull. He whipped around, prepped to let out an anguished roar and avenge his lover, but he found Tanner standing over the attacker instead, his arm covered up to the elbow up in black blood, his tongue monstrously sliding up his forearm while he reveled in his first vampire kill.

“Niall, get over here!” Zayn cried, fearful that next time wouldn’t treat them so well. He shoved Niall down against the trunk of a taxi and stood before him with his arms out, watching over the vehicle and guarding his beauty from the harm that was sure to meet him if he wasn’t careful. In this, he had failed to catch the straggler flying straight for his neck from Harry’s side of things, and nobody would have been able to stop him in time; no member of their group (now including Tanner) free enough from their own business to notice—nobody except for Niall, of course.

Niall’s lips slightly parted as his face tilted up to watch the murderous airborne strike of the enemy over Zayn’s shoulder, but no conscious thoughts came after that. The blonde hopped up to his feet in the span of a second and shoved Zayn aside with his fangs bared possessively, meeting the end of the vampire’s hopeful attack and wrestling it onto the ground as he swiftly disconnected its head from its shoulders, chucking it backward over his own head and screaming down at the body left behind.

Zayn dashed forward and helped Niall off the ground, giving him a short kiss on the lips in thanks and ironically using the opportunity to teach him how to fight, letting the blonde go after his pick and helping him succeed, glad that Niall’s skills began to form as quickly as they did, or else he would have been on guard duty this entire time, and that’s no fun.   

Louis was having a blast but he didn’t suppose that was very shocking. He’d annihilated at least half of their forces by now on his own, leaving Erakus and Marley’s body counts in the dust while he continued channeling the warmongering general of the operation. He knew Harry was doing fine because he was keeping his ears and sense of smell entirely devoted on his lover’s movements and condition, the battles at his hands nearly background noise in comparison.

Tanner and Niall were evidently showing no mercy, and Niall’s murderous breakthrough couldn't have come at a better time—Louis was proud. Erakus, Marley, Martin, and Zayn were also proving their astounding worth by building large piles of bodies at their feet. Louis could not believe that _this_ was the best Auron could do.

Granted, the nefarious twin was admittedly hurtling the world into a widespread panic right now, and neither Louis nor Harry, not to mention anyone else in such small groups, stood any feasible chance at putting a stop to it. However, the nonexistent experience and skill level in some of Auron’s predators was long past the title of pathetic; it was bordering on hilarious. Just what did he expect to achieve against the guardians of the world with these teenage brats doing his bidding?

Of course…that’s not to say he didn’t have a hefty amount of Elders on his side as well—in fact, Louis knew this without a doubt, having been murdered in 1599 while surrounded by them, and being kicked by that group of them that had come to the Sparrow house. And the clubs...okay, so Auron had some good fighters, but they certainly weren’t here at the moment. Although...thinking about it, perhaps some these dweebs had already retreated to a phone by this point and were currently calling Auron to out their location.

Shit, they really did need to leave the country.

“Hurry this up, we gotta go!” Louis shouted to his family, his inner thoughts winning the battle of urgency. He'd gone back and forth between destroying these enemies in a second and taking his sweet and smug time on them; they needed to end this now. The Gods only knew how much longer it would take for Auron to arrive, considering they didn't even know where he was to begin with.

“I second that,” Harry grunted, hooking his fingers around a vampire’s top and bottom rows of teeth and tearing his jaw in two, closing his eyes to block the splatter of blood from hitting his pupils.

From then on, they fought to kill, drastically lowering the numbers against them and beginning to back up as they did to cover ground even as they were fully immersed in battle. Louis reached back and snatched the shirts of Niall and Tanner and reeled the boys into his arms, forcing them under the wings of his superior protection while his group polished off the last of the mercenaries.

He kept his watchful eye on Harry, only glancing to the others to verify their enemies had been fully fired from the occupation of existing before returning his gaze to his beautiful lover. Watching Harry do what he did best was wholefully arousing, and Louis held no shame in admitting that—Hadrian’s righteous morals made this warrior side of him shine through his aura like a guiding light of influential dominion.

Louis liked this version of monster Harry almost more than how he got when desecrating truly defenseless human cattle. This was rawer, fiercer, dirtier. Harry had to put physical effort into something like this (regardless of how powerless his adversaries may be), and Louis would never turn down the straining veins and flexing muscles as long as he lived.

As Louis was fawning over his terribly gorgeous lover, said object of his monogamous attachment did away with the very last opponent in their vicinity, thereby freeing them to resume their journey through this damn tunnel to the airport.

“Beautifully done, my child,” Alexander praised, his old term of endearment for his lover slipping through the cracks because he couldn't help it when he was proud of him.

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped his dead victim onto the concrete, strutting to the sidewalk after Louis had released Niall and Tanner and physically shoving past him in irritation. “I hate it when you say that shit! I'm not a fucking child,” he growled, wiping the black blood from his face and lifting the bottom of his shirt to his chin when his skin only smeared it further.

“I know you're not a child, you impudent brat,” Alex fired back, following after the retreating Roman and smacking him upside the head, his words and patronizing treatment completely contradicting the intended point of his message. “Stop fucking complaining about every little thing. It was nicely done! Take the damn compliment, you Roman scum,” he snapped, halting (along with the rest of the strolling group) when Harry spun around and roughly backed the King into the rounded wall of the 4-lane tunnel.

“Watch your fucking tone with me right now,” Harry warned with an uncontrolled hiss, trapping Alex against the concrete wall with his body so he couldn't move an inch. “Go on ahead,” he said to their group without taking his eyes off Louis’. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea right now?” Zayn asked, taking a step forward anyway because he predicted being chewed out for hesitating.

Tanner, however, let impulse win out yet again. “Yeah, this can wait, guys! Now isn't really the time for you two to—”

“ _Go_. _On_. _Ahead_ ,” Harry commanded, an ominous threat behind his words that had Tanner leading the group away himself.

Louis watched the group move past them but his chin was sharply gripped and centered when Harry apparently became too offended by Louis’ lack of recognition to stop himself, and Louis let the Roman have all his attention, out of logical appeasement more than respect—this was wasting time.

“Why the fuck would you challenge me right now?” Harry demanded, his tongue finally licking the last of the blood from his fangs. “I'm not of a sound mind to respond well to taunts. Not that soon after what I just did.”

“Like you'd be a danger to me...and I wasn't— _challenging_ you, you nitwit!” Louis shouted, throwing his weight into Harry's chest to throw him off, but the Roman was the heavier of the two, and his subsequent strike in return made Louis’ look like a harmless flick. “Zeus!” he cried in anger upon being smacked into the wall so hard he cracked it—but that wasn't exactly an uncommon result. Tended to happen a lot with this couple.

“Calmly calling me a fucking child after killing enemies to _protect you_ is a shitty thing to do,” he reasoned, meeting the end of Louis’ reactive wrath faster than he had the time to backtrack.

“Because I need protecting?!” Louis bellowed in outrage, slapping Harry across the face and hissing at his impacted profile, ceasing the angry sound (but keeping his fangs bared) when Harry recovered from the assault and deeply cut into him with an unnervingly hateful look.

“What, you think _I_ do? Against _them_? I saw you staring at me like a mother duck while her fledging offspring try to fend for themselves, _don't_...fucking look at me like that...I _saw_ you,” he said quickly to stop Louis’ dishonest rebuttal before it broke through his lips. “You think I'm completely helpless without you, but I did _just fine_ ; you don't need to coddle me, and if you don't stop, I'll kill you myself,” he vowed maliciously, slamming his foot down on Louis’ when the King raised his knee to kick him.

“You're so full of shit, Hadrian. You're a fucking nuisance, and we don't have the time for this. So insult me faster, _if you_ _fucking must_ , because they’re right; we have to _go_ ,” he urged impatiently, suddenly gasping and backing up as far as the wall would allow when Harry snatched a fistful of his hair and leaned in maddeningly close.

“This—” the Roman snarled, tightening his other hand around Louis’ neck and nuzzling his nose against the King’s ear. “—this would all go a lot faster if you didn't act like such a pretentious snob,” he whispered darkly, releasing Louis from the wall because he fancied having the last word.

Louis resented that. “I will not be overpowered by the dainty likes of you, Hadrianus. It was a _compliment_ , for the love of Jupiter, you are such a heaping bitch!” Louis barked, sending Harry crashing hard into the side of a car from the force of his instant full-body shove.

“You're gonna regret that,” Harry warned after hitting the ground, glaring up at Louis when he bent down to sneer at him.

“I don't know why you're being such an insufferable wench, but you need to stop,” Louis stressed affirmatively, resisting the temptation to spit on Harry’s vulnerable form and straightening up instead. He then stalked off to catch up with their group, and he'd made it two steps before he found himself face-down on the pavement.

“I _can't_ stop, don't you fucking understand?” Harry hissed as he roughly turned Louis over to face him, his endorphins dripping onto Louis’ collarbones because his nature wanted bloodshed, and Louis’ neck was positively divine.

“...Are you serious? _Control your damn self_ —”

“Shit! Just fucking stop, Louis. Please. I'm in a terrible fucking mood, I am _not_ okay, and I _can't_ just control myself right now. _Please_ stop giving me reasons to lash out at you,” Harry begged from inches above him, his brows cinched in a deeply troubled arch because he didn't even want to fight, but Louis was making it impossible not to.

Louis was uncommonly shocked. It wasn't everyday that Harry seriously asked for an immediate truce in their squabbling because he confessed he couldn't hold back his negative reactions. Louis had _so much pride_ , and it hurt more than it should to let this go (because it wasn't _him_ perpetuating this bullshit in the first place), but he did it for Harry’s sake. He reached a hand up to Harry’s cheek and thumbed across the prominent bone just under his eye, giving a small nod of his head to take the edge off of Harry’s rage.

“Yeah?” Harry asked just to be sure, the frown etched into his face easing away into an expression of neutrality now that the worst of their issues seemed to have subsided.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Louis said in a voice that was almost at a whisper, letting his lips form a smile to comfort the Roman and _get them moving again because they were kind of in the middle of something ridiculously important and did not have the time to focus on stupid shit like this_ , but he digresses. He would do whatever needed to be done.

“Thank you,” Harry breathed, helping Louis off the floor and taking off hand in hand to get back to their group, who were most certainly out of the tunnel by now. They crossed its gloomy length in no time now that all distractions were exiled, and they popped out of the end like snapped rubber bands, sliding along on the dirt while their group clapped them on the back.

“Well that took you long enough,” Erakus snickered, wondering if they'd get an explanation for what the hold up entailed.

“Sorry. Had to tame the beast,” Louis chuckled, snaking his arm around Harry’s back while the Roman snorted into his hair. The coin flip of their behavior toward the other had always and will always be a mystery to those around them. Everything can go to shit and back to normal in under two minutes, and though it looked strange from the outside, it's all they'd ever known—that's just who they are together.

“There’re vampires further down that way, so don’t expect the fight to be over quite yet,” Martin warned, pointing down the clogged 495 E freeway they’d taken through the Midtown tunnel, by extension the one they’d take all the way through Queens until they hit the I-678 S and used that instead in a frantic home-run dash to the savior airport.  

“My dear Martin, this is war,” Harry noted with a smirk, both hands on his hips as he rolled his pelvis in a wide circle to stretch. “The fighting will never be over now.”

“Oh great,” Martin quipped, kissing his Tanner on the cheek and sighing in defeated acceptance. “Ready when you are.”

 

\---

 

They continued on in the same manner across the desolate ruins of Queens, bypassing every attack in their path on their way to the airport. They followed down the 495 until they hit the exit for I-678, but a particular commotion down in the streets grabbed Louis’ attention and he veered off without even mentioning his plan, the group automatically following him and jumping down into the borough.

This commotion included a mass crowd of humans being herded down an empty street by a group of six seasoned adult vampires. The fact that the immortals were merely walking them along like a band of prisoners instead of attacking and turning them struck Louis as odd, and it was disconcerting to see. Where the fuck were they taking them?

The moment the righteous group had redirected their course, the pugnacious batch tensed and adopted aggressive stances. Louis had the entertaining thought that had these vampires been cats, their fur would be sticking up like needles, but he kept the impulsive chuckle to himself. “Oi! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted, slowing to a heavy walk when they’d closed the distance.

“Are you Bastion or the other one?” the assumed leader asked warily, all six immortals’ eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as they scrutinized Harry. Louis was hesitant to respond because if these guys didn't know any better, it could be a great opportunity to get some information, but Harry went along without a single fumble.

“You _dare_ mistake me for my kid brother?” the Roman growled in a slithering tone that was uncanny to Auron’s, sending goosebumps down Louis’ back because you can kill him for it, but yeah, it was incredibly attractive.

“No, no! I didn't mean to! I just—I’d only heard that he was spotted in Manhattan and—”

“Enough!” Harry snapped, stalking forward and pretending to study the humans who'd been unfortunately rounded up for the journey...to where, who knows. “Is this _all_ the humans you could get? This is _Queens_...where are the others?” he demanded, striding up to the leader to intimidate him.

“What...what do you mean? These humans are for Jeremiah,” the leader said quizzically, looking around at his collection of mortals like they might have the answer.

“Does _Jeremiah_ run this operation? Or do _I_? Your orders were to turn fifty percent of the humans, let them continue the chain on their own, and then gather the other fifty percent after the first waves of bites was done,” he sternly guessed off the top of his head, hoping to Jupiter that this idiot would confirm or deny in helpful detail.

“What? No, that’s not what we were told,” the leader negated, looking more so apologetic that he’d been misinformed rather than untrusting of Harry’s inaccurate misspeak. “Honest! We were told by Jeremiah to turn the majority of humans we see in our stationed city, but to leave the newscasters and media people alone. The rounding and harvest will happen in the rural areas, but we got put on city duty, so obviously we’re not in charge of that. To our knowledge, that was the plan,” he finished, the others nodding along as they silently groveled for forgiveness.

“Oh, it is?” Harry quipped pleasantly in his regular voice, dousing the entire scenario with a bucket of ice water. The looks of fear on the enemies disintegrated into blank stares of dumbfounded confusion, and Harry’s group remained perfectly still in the same level of shock, just on another scale.

“Shit, you’re not Bastion!” the leader cried in terror, furious with himself over falling for Harry’s tricks, no doubt, but above all else mortified that he’d just outed the plan to Bastion’s only archenemy.

Harry threw his head back and cackled so loud he hurt his own ears, bending over and snorting into his hands as he slowly shook his head back and forth. “Jupiter, you really are stupid,” he sighed, straightening up and shooting his fangs out at once, licking the tips while he shot wide and crazy eyes at the doomed vampires before him. “But thanks for telling me.”

“Now!” Louis shouted to everyone that wasn’t Harry, zapping to the group of six and taking one out before the others even had the chance to turn their heads. Zayn, Martin, and Erakus materialized beside him and tackled three of the others to the ground, and Marley (with Tanner and Niall) took the fifth down, leaving only the leader and Harry to deal with each other.

“What? You’re not gonna run? Try to transmit this most shameful piece of news to Jeremiah? Or are you more afraid of what he’ll do to you if you survive?” Harry guessed, a sickening grin tipping his lips up as he realized he was absolutely right, guided by the automatic flinch in the mini-leader’s limbs.

Harry’s vampires finished the job and flanked his sides, the whole bunch stepping toward the last one standing as threateningly as they could. “Scared, puppet?” Louis taunted gleefully, his fangs dripping and anxious to kill him, but he would follow Harry’s lead for this one.

The leader visibly gulped at the approaching forces, his eyes flicking between Auron’s twin and the older vampire to his left who had just spoken, weighing the pros and cons of either dying, or escaping and then dying at Jeremiah’s hands. His only choice left was running out of New York altogether, but the question of whether this group would even let that happen remained to be seen.

Harry held a hand out by his thigh to halt his family, walking by himself the rest of the way to the frozen vampire and bending down so his face aligned with the shorter one’s. “Run,” he said simply, snorting when the adult tore off down the street and disappeared from all their sense detection. He wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, that was for sure.

“I hope Jeremiah finds him,” Louis noted with a pout, disgruntled that they’d let him go, but comprehensive of why it had been done.

The Roman hummed in agreement and turned on his heel to face the humans, their faces all stuck in the same speechless stare, clueless of what they’d just seen and lacking the confidence that these monsters were any different from the last. Harry smiled to the ground when the assumption crossed his mind; it was debatable whether or not Harry was just as volatile as Auron, but at least his cause was just. “You all need to find the tallest buildings around and climb to the top. Our senses are weaker from varied heights, and that’s the safest kind of place you could be right now. I’m sorry this is happening, but don’t do anything stupid and get yourself killed. Now go, we’re all over the place at the moment,” he said, walking toward them and shooing his arms to get them moving.

The humans scattered like tumbleweeds and used their newfound freedom to do what they were told, and Louis sighed once again because killing only one creature during that whole experience hadn’t been enough, but he was trying to keep his mind centered on the big picture. A noise caught his ears and they twitched in response, his feet leading him toward the sound to an electronics store on the corner street from the intersection they’d been standing in the middle of.

Harry followed Louis with his head and decided to follow him, the group making their way over to the store window with three shelves of televisions behind it, and unhappily observing the news stories that were broadcasting from New York. Said castings that also showed clips of other stories from all across the world. “You were right,” the King grumbled, crossing his arms and digging his nails into his side and upper arm in agitation. “They hit everywhere. Every major city.”

“Come on,” Harry said uneasily, grabbing Louis’ wrist as he passed and running off back to the I-678. Everyone else got in their last looks and trailed after the Elders, popping out onto the freeway at roughly the same time and foregoing conversation to focus on the road as though were actually driving it, and not just hopping across the tops of cars and slipping between them on the pavement.

They found JFK Access Road and reached the airport especially fast, because from their then location, it had only been an estimated thirteen minutes away, and they weren’t surprised to find it just as chaotic as everywhere else, humans having flocked to the port in hopes of getting out of the city, state, or country completely. Unfortunately there weren’t near enough planes to “save” anyone, and that term is loose because would they ever be safe again?

Louis kept his eyes peeled for Auron’s vampires because this was quite the good, boxed-in location for panicked humans to get trapped in, but there didn’t seem to be any around. For now...

“This way,” Harry said, leading them to the back hangars and past all the commercial crafts to the private jet area, scouring each example for the one Liam had described to him. Before he had to look any further, he saw an Elder and three humans calmly step down the stairs of a white and blue jet with a thin green stripe separating the top white part from the bottom blue. Harry strode up to them and spoke privately for a few seconds, motioning everyone over when he got the words he wanted to hear.

“I take it you’re Liam’s people,” Louis supposed, holding his hand out and wrapping his fingers around the forearm of the Elder pilot when he grasped his own.

“Indeed. A pleasure, Sir...em…” the posh Elder trailed, unsure who any of these vampires were, save for Harry, who surprisingly was second in age to this ancient specimen.

“Alexander of Macedon,” the King said smugly, raising an eyebrow at the instant awe in the pilot’s face.

“Oh _here_ we go,” Harry muttered to the sky, grunting when Alex blindly kicked a flat foot back into his kneecap.

“Why it is an _honour_ , Alexander. You are most esteemed,” the pilot extolled, unbeknownst to the gratified and self-obsessed moan that Alexander kept locked inside himself.

“I thank you,” Alex said genuinely, making a sweep of his hand to gesture to the four English creatures. “And your names are…?”

“I’m Reginald. This is my co-pilot, Bennie, his co-pilot for when the sun is out, Peter, and my blood-partner, Cedric,” the Elder introduced, the humans mentioned giving out little waves when their names were called. “Though I said blood-partner, you are welcome to Cedric if you would like. I imagine you must be haggard after the trials of tonight, so please feel free,” he said kindly, patting Cedric on the head and causing a lazy grin to activate the dimples in his cheeks.

“Duly noted, and it’s a pleasure. I wish we weren’t in such a rush, but…” Louis trailed, looking around and shrugging.

“Yes, yes, of course. Come on in, we’ll begin take-off procedures immediately,” Reginald assured, making a polite motion to say “After you” and letting his passengers pile in first before the crew.

“Really?” Niall interjected before moving from his spot, causing all eyes to turn to him expectantly. “ _No one_ is going to make a joke about Bennie and the Jets?” he asked incredulously, having seen no better opportunity for an Elton John reference in his entire life.

“Very funny. Come on, Niall,” Louis muttered, turning back around and apologizing to Bennie with his eyes, who appeared particularly understanding of the comment.

“Where’s your sense of humor?” Niall grumbled to the group, letting himself be guided by Zayn toward the jet, co-piloted by a guy named _B-B-B-Bennie_.

Louis hopped up the steps and came into the modest interior of the jet, walking a bit down the aisle to make room for everyone else. Modest was a straight lie, by the way. It looked like a glimmering ferry to an expensive heaven. Ignoring the sporadic sprinkling of roses along the window ledges, it was a pristine, cream and gold wonderland. There were two rows of ten chairs in total, and eight of them faced each other (leaving the middle two only facing toward the cockpit), all with pull out dining tables one could set up if they would be eating, then somehow shove back into the frame when they were done.

The chairs themselves were off-white leather and wide enough to fit even Father-Troy’s fat ass in, and Marley and Erakus sprinted off to the back group of four, partly separated by two half-circle walls that lined up with the edge of the aisle. Martin and Tanner took the front right-side (from their point of view) set of opposing seats, and Louis dragged Harry into the left pair, situating themselves so Harry was facing the cockpit, and Louis was facing the tail of the aircraft. Zayn and Niall took one for the team and chose the two chairs behind the first four that only faced forward, simply choosing to sit sideways so that they could swoon at each other from across the aisle.

“Excuse me, my grand company!” Reginald announced from outside the narrow and short doorway of the cockpit, a professional looking Bennie and Peter beside him, though Peter would not be needed for quite some time. “Little bit of information before take-off. This craft is called the _Grumman Gulfstream II_. It has a fuel range of 6,635 kilometers, and we will be traveling to Gatwick Airport in Horley, United Kingdom. That is a distance of 5,566 kilometers, and it will take about seven hours to cross the Atlantic. At dawn, Bennie will come to collect Peter to be his co-pilot, so no one can bite Peter. This is crucial, for he will be needed to fly the plane when I retire. Is this understood?” he asked, craning his neck to meet the back passenger's eyes.

“No fangs will break Peter’s skin, I can promise you,” Louis said surely, prepared to savagely beat anyone who tried. His bets were on Tanner. “How do we ultimately get to our destination when day breaks?” he asked, while Bennie slipped into the cockpit to start the preparations that he didn’t need Reginald for.

“This jet will be landed and rolled into a garage hangar, where we will then be transported by humans into separate limousines and taken down the A23 and M23 roads to the town of Falmer in the Lewes District of East Sussex, where Master Liam resides. From then, the limousines will be parked in his garages, and you will be carried into beds to sleep soundly until dusk,” he informed, much to the discomforted shifting of his passengers. He understood—nobody wanted to be touched by strangers in their sleep.

“You trust this Liam?” Louis asked Harry, reluctant but willing to go along with this only if Harry was unshakably confident nothing bad would happen.

“Absolutely,” Harry said without waver, calming everyone’s nerves with the verdict in his tone.

“Alright, take off,” Louis said to Reggie (that full name is posher than Queen Elizabeth’s), turning back around and slouching in his seat.

“Right away,” the pilot quipped, ducking under the archway with Bennie and closing the heavy door behind them, a loud click resounding when it was locked.

Peter and Cedric waltzed down the aisle to the two empty seats in the back with Erakus and Marley, and Louis closed his eyes for a short breather, listening to the high-pitched hum of the engine and the mechanical testing of the wing flaps. After awhile they started to roll on the craft’s tires, and Louis looked out the window to see things crawling along in the opposite direction.

“I don’t know what we’re gonna do once we get there,” Harry confessed, his plan of ‘leave the country’ crumbling after anything past that event.

“I don’t know...we’ll figure it out,” Louis sighed, resting his ankles on the armrest of Harry’s chair and smiling when the Roman immediately tended to his overworked ankles, gently massaging them and taking his shoes off to move to his feet. “Where did you even meet this Liam?” he asked, moaning at the release of pressure Harry was invoking with his hands.

“Several hundred years ago in England,” Harry responded, his face adopting a troubled look as he relived the circumstances in which he’d met him. “I was...not in a good place. Grieving, obviously. I don’t know, he took me in when I was a lost cause. Took care of me until I was a little better,” he recounted, his expression softening the longer he gazed at Louis, the past pain of losing him obliterated now that he was back.

“How did you even keep up with the people you met along the way?” Louis asked, understandably confused how he’d known something like a telephone number after all this time.

“Well when I got the mansion with Martin, I sent out letters to where I’d last seen everyone...some of it was luck, but not quite. Liam’s an Elder, and he was back then too; generally Elders like to stay in one place. I mean when we settle down, we _settle down_. You're like the only one who never wanted to. I gave him my address so he had it, and when telephone numbers came around, he sent me his. We never talked or called each other, though. Earlier was the first,” he said, a weight off his shoulders when the jet started to zoom down the runway. Planes were particularly hard for grounded vampires to chase. Especially across an ocean. This is the safest they would be in and for a while.

“How many people did you meet? How many secret friends do you have out there? I never saw anyone from the afterlife,” Louis mused, removing his feet from the armrest and rooting them to the carpet when the plane began to ascend into the night sky.

“A few…” Harry said vaguely, eliciting a sharp narrow of Louis’ eyes, but a subsequent sigh of acceptance, so the topic was dropped.

Louis would have said something else, but Tanner’s obnoxious giggle interrupted the train, and he leaned over the aisle to get something important off his chest. “Martin, you better keep that basketcase of yours in check. If he even gets close to Peter, I’m gonna kill him,” he warned to the stark butler, meeting Tanner’s offended eyes and daring him to speak out.

“Hey, that’s not fair! What do you take me for? Sure, I may still be a little out of control right now, but I’m not going to do something that would crash this plane! I have _some_ sense of reason, you know,” the loose-afro-haired human defended, pouting severely in the face of being disrespected by his King for the hundredth time.

“Okay?” Louis said carelessly with a shrug of his shoulders. “Prove it,” he snapped, returning to the comfortable position he’d left and rolling his eyes at Tanner’s responding scoff of annoyance. Tanner was far more annoying than Louis was, and that was a fact the King did not need to promote.

“I love it when you bark at people,” Harry murmured, reaching out to take Louis’ hands and pull him into his lap, proper take-off protocol be damned.

“If you’re lucky, next time it may just be directed at you,” Louis chuckled, scratching his retracted nails up the side of Harry’s neck and into his hair, tussling it while he breathed in the fresh rain scent from the curly locks.

“Mmm, please and thank you,” Harry purred, kissing up Louis’ neck and tightening his arms around him, basking in the freedom they still had to lose themselves in each other and forget the world until the sun came up. They would use the time wisely.

 

~~~

 

_Louis walked along the ruins of an overgrown forest, his palms brushing across the scratchy necks of trees as he enjoyed the warmth of the breaking sun on his skin. He came to a clearing and strolled through the tall grass to get back into the maze of trees, but the croon of a familiar voice stopped him with a flinch._

_“Hey there, Lexy.”_

_‘What the_ —’ _Louis thought, turning himself around as though he were rusted metal and glaring viciously at the presence he confirmed to be Auron, who lay on the grass in tranquility, his hands interlocked behind his head, his ankles crossed. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, striding over and leering down at him with his hands on his hips._

_“What am I doing here?” Auron asked with heavy emphasis on the word ‘I,’ looking around at the forest and staring back up at Alexander. “This is my dream. What are YOU doing here?”_

_Louis furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms, seriously debating that statement and deciding it was just as incorrect as it sounded. “Wrong. This is my dream. I just fell asleep,” he contested, backing up two paces when Auron rose from his relaxed lounge and propped himself up with his hands behind him._

_“Well I'm asleep too…” Auron informed, scratching at his chin and returning the hand to its original spot. “Either way, it’s nice to see you,” he noted, a bittersweet smile lessening his smirk as he took in the sight of his one and only object of affection. “Nice species you got there. Back to your old self, huh? I kinda knew when I couldn’t reach out to you anymore. What a sad moment that was. I may have even cried…”_

_“What are you doing here?” Louis griped again, sitting down fearlessly because nothing could actually happen to him in a dream—and he could actually take Auron on now._

_“I told you; this is my dream,” Auron reminded impatiently, yawning into his fist and sitting up fully, tucking his ankles under his thighs and leaning his elbows on his knees._

_“It’s not!” Louis shot back, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyelids and groaning in irritation. “You don’t have me under a lure anymore, Auron. There is no reason for you to be here. We’re not connected by anything,” he reasoned, finally training his eyes back on the Roman and shooting him a deadpanned expression._

_“Lure, maybe not…” Auron agreed sadly, one eyebrow then arching in bemusement, “...but I’d say we’re still connected by something.”_

_“Yeah? What’s that?” Louis scoffed, entirely unimpressed with Auron’s air of authority that held no power over him anymore._

_“In the mind, you brute. I messed with you bad as a human. Our consciousnesses are still linked, I suppose,” he guessed, an ill-timed giggle brightening his face as he marinated in the truth of that._

_“Yeah, but you won’t remember this. Since this is my dream,” Louis replied, ripping out a blade of grass from the forest floor and tearing it in two down the middle._

_“I’m telling you, I’m really here,” Auron stressed, the shocked honesty in his voice making it hard for Louis to deny. “I have no way of knowing if you’ll remember either…”_

_“What the fuck...you mean we’re actually in the same dream?” Louis squeaked, dropping the grass strips with frozen hands._

_“I told you I don’t know,” Auron said innocently, carding his hand through his hair and fluffing it just like Hadrian always did._

_“Why?” Louis asked simply, all logic falling irrelevant because this wasn’t supposed to be possible._

_“If I KNEW that, do you think I’d be wasting my time with this stupid roundabout conversation?” Auron challenged rudely, channeling Auron’s true character so perfectly that Louis accepted it as hard proof of his literal presence._

_“My mind wouldn’t go out of its way to find you in an alternate plane,” Louis seethed, snatching a handful of grass into his fist and chucking it all at Auron, the blades softly floating down onto his lap._

_Auron looked down and snorted in amusement, sweeping his trousers off while he gazed back up at the fuming Alexander. “I beg to differ, Lexy. We have a bond, you and I. I’ve killed you before. Drunk from you before. Besides, I can see it in your eyes. You find me unspeakably, breathtakingly beautiful; don’t even try to deny it,” he cooed, his hand sliding down his chest seductively and landing over his crotch, biting his lip when Alexander’s eyes followed it down._

_Louis sighed tiredly and rubbed at his forehead, suddenly flailing his arms in defense. “You’re Hadrian’s identical twin, shit-for-brains! If I didn’t find you attractive, I’d have a lot of explaining to do with your brother. And what does this attraction signify? It’s meaningless. You’re Auron, not Hadrian, whom I actually love,” he growled hatefully, squinting his eyes in suspicion when Auron began to crawl over to him._

_“Lexy,” the Roman whined, stopping his hand mid-reach before his fingers touched Alexander’s cheek, an action that would likely end in an intensely negative way. “You really know how to hurt me...I hate you for it.”_

_“Good. Hate me! I’d much prefer that. Better than this unrequited infatuation you keep pushing onto me,” Louis responded, holding his breath he didn’t need anyway from the nerve-racking proximity of the god-like but infuriating vampire._

_“Unrequited!” Auron cackled, pushing Alex down by a hand in the center of his chest until his back hit the forest floor, hovering over him and peering into his eyes with two raised brows of his own. “We both know that's not quite true.”_

_“Oh, cut the shit, Auron,” Louis huffed, indescribably done with this conversation. “You manipulated me to make me yours. Which I never completely was, in case you forgot. What we had...I wouldn't exactly call that consensual desire,” he said coldly, enraged over Auron’s unfazed face at getting rejected._

_“...Whatever helps you sleep at day…”_

_“I AM asleep, you power-hungry animal!” Alex shouted angrily, resisting the urge to sit up because it would move him too close to Auron’s lips. “This certainly isn’t helping anything, now get off me,” he demanded, his hands curled into fists to punch Auron right out of this dimension if he tried anything._

_“Speaking of power, do you like what I’ve done with the place?” Auron inquired proudly, already expecting a heavily-worded string of curses and denial._

_“What, the forest?” Alex responded in confusion, hissing when Auron busted up in hysterics._

_“No, you waste of space. The planet,” Auron specified, still calming his laughter when the light of understanding flicked on above Alex’s head._

_“Oh...no, I don’t,” Louis countered, erupting with a burst of energy and flipping them over to trap Auron beneath him instead. “And I’m gonna stop you.”_

_“It’s too late for that, my only love,” Auron noted with fake sympathy in his voice as he reached a hand up to caress the side of the King’s face (the other hand curling around Alex’s upper thigh), not appearing too upset over their change of position. Being straddled by Alexander was hardly an unsatisfactory circumstance._

_Louis slapped the hands away and snarled down at him, gripping his wrists and pinning them just above the Roman’s head, unfortunately exciting him more than he’d intended. “And you’re still gonna die,” he continued as though Auron hadn’t said a word, wishing he could burn the etches of the Roman’s enjoyable touch from his body._

_“That’ll be fun… You’re starting to fade away,” the Roman mentioned, his eyes circling the edges of Alexander’s frame and frowning in opposition to their time together being over so soon._

_“Good,” Louis spat, elated to finally get out of this blasted dream._

_“When I see you again, if you remember this, I’m going to be very happy,” Auron said with a smirk as he subtly rolled his hips against the King’s and made him gasp in want, licking his own lips in pleasure and soaking in the last of Alexander being on top of his body._

_“Guess we’ll see…” Louis said emotionlessly, staring blankly at Auron’s face while everything disintegrated around them, the last sight being Auron’s maddening little wink before nothing but darkness._

 

~~~

 

Louis opened his eyes to see an Elder vampire with straight, light brown hair a little ways past his shoulders standing over his bed and looking down at him in wonderment, a brown-skinned mortal with an afro that put Tanner’s to _shame_ beside and slightly behind him. He was about to demand who the fuck they were, but Harry’s voice jarred him away from that automatic impulse.

“Louis,” Harry said right next to him, apparently already awake and watching him in concern.

“What!” Louis snapped, the memories of ‘Liam’ and ‘England’ coming back into his mind and satiating his curiosity.

“You were saying my brother’s name in your sleep,” Harry accused, his emotion over the subject hidden behind a mask of complacency. It wasn’t as though he was angered by this, but it begged to be addressed either way.

“I was?” Louis asked, sitting up and recalling the weird dream they’d maybe shared together, shivering the thought away and focusing on the present. “I’ll explain later,” he vowed to Harry, making it clear he did not wish to discuss this in the company of two strangers.

“Very well,” Harry said, gesturing to said company and painting a smile on his face. “Louis, this is Liam. And his human, Johnny,” he added, nudging Louis to turn around and address them.

“Hello, Liam. Sorry for the weird first impression,” Louis said sincerely, giving a polite nod to the human as well.

“It’s no bother, honestly. I’m honoured to meet you, I’ve heard a great deal from history and from Harry himself,” Liam said with the southern accent that Louis would expect from him, allowing Johnny to come closer now that it was confirmed Louis (or Alexander) wouldn’t be lashing out the moment he woke up.

“So what now?” Louis asked, needing to get down to business because they were kind of in the middle of a worldwide crisis and had no idea what to do about it.

“Haven’t the faintest...shall we think of something?” Liam suggested, motioning toward the opened door where Louis could hear their family interacting with more strangers from somewhere in the house.

Louis nodded and got out of bed, pulling Harry along with him as they stood to their full height, leading the way to exit the room and probably gather around the crackling fire Louis could hear. “Yeah, and fast. This shit’s up to us now...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikesss oh meeee yikes  
> And what do you think? Do you think they really shared a dream? Share your theories!!


	28. The Failure Before The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that title scares the shit out of you.

“Are you really Alexander the Great?” a googly-eyed human in Liam’s living room breathed in amazement.

Louis opened his mouth to smugly reply, but an outward burst of anger from Harry transpired first.

“Stop it! Just once! Not right now!” Harry bellowed, on the verge of burning every history book on the planet if he had to hear this shit one more time.

Louis snapped his teeth together and glared at Harry, shooting the human a quink wink to confirm the question because he deserved to be known.

“If we could move on, please,” Harry requested, sitting down heavily on a wide couch and refusing to cuddle Louis when the King sat beside him.

Liam nodded and led Johnny to a loveseat, gently pushing him down and then pacing the room as he formulated where to even start.

Louis watched the Elder walk back and forth until it bored him, focusing instead on the interior of the room they were sat in. It had a lower ceiling than most mansions he’d been in so far, but that did nothing to take away from its regal qualities. It was older than Harry’s mansion by a long shot, and the creaks in everything were a testament to that. It almost gave off the impression of what J.R.R. Tolkien had written hobbit homes to be, only instead of rounded doors, they were merely wide. When he says wide, he means an added half of an average door width.

No carpet was seen anywhere so far, and the floors could certainly use a good polish, but Louis wasn’t going to be the one to mention that. Crests with swords sticking out of them decorated the walls, along with more Renaissance art that one would expect, and it was obvious that chandeliers had been added to the ceiling a good while after its building, considering the construction of this home undoubtedly occurred long before electricity was harvested.

Coffee tables and stands were cluttered with papers, books, empty wine glasses, and even paint brushes, and wooden chairs had been dragged in from a separate room to fit everyone around the couch and table closest to the roaring fireplace. Speaking of the company, discounting Louis’ group, there was Liam, Johnny, six other humans, and nine vampires placed idly in random spots of the room, some leaning against the walls, some in chairs by the fireplace, and some sitting on the floor.

None were as old as Liam, so that Elder held all of Louis’ attention, bringing his eyes back to his restless form to follow it across the noisy floorboards. The silence was grating, but Louis held everything back, releasing the reins of his notorious dominance to let this Guardian figure it out instead...because he knew just by looking at him that he was a Guardian.

“It's no trouble at all to admit I'm without a substantial plan of action,” Liam said first, meeting Harry’s eyes and rejoicing that he found no disappointment within them—at least his old friend hadn't expected him to have all the answers. “I called upon the Guardians of England last night when this all broke out, and they’ve told me they would tie things up at their homes and agreed to meet me here the following night. Which is now; in fact, the Northerners are probably on their way at the moment,” he theorized, snapping at two of his friends and grabbing their focus. “Astair and Ezra, go outside and watch out for them, please,” he ordered kindly, adopting his thoughtful expression again when they left.

“Predators and Guardians...I've heard this a few times now, but I'm still not sure what it means,” Niall said to Louis, hoping he'd get an explanation and not a scolding for bringing his ignorance to their serious discussion.

As it were, Louis deemed the topic one of importance, and he hence educated Niall on what he'd need to know before the place was crawling with self-proclaimed Guardians. “Predators are vampires who go after humans with the intention of outing our kind. They've always been around, and back in the day, the Emperor and I might have been considered as some ourselves. But our conspicuous killings were done more because we didn't _care_ who saw us, rather than a selfish wish for notoriety.”

“Right, and news traveled like a snail in those ages,” Harry added, always astounded with the rapid evolution mankind had undergone from his birthdate to now. He hadn't said shit about it at the time, but being in a plane, _flying over the ocean_ , had been unbelievably mind-bending, and he'd felt like a child on its birthday the entire ride.

“Very slow,” Louis agreed, steering himself back on the point before he got too lost in recollections. “Guardians are the vampires that target predators for their actions. This isn't to say they're virtuous humanitarians, but they won't let predators take out towns and blast our species into the open,” he explained, watching the gears turn in Niall’s head.

“Are they chosen?” the blonde asked, furrowing Louis’ eyebrows because he didn't understand the question. “Like are they chosen to be Guardians?” he amended, becoming even more confused when Harry and Louis both shook their heads. “Then how—”

“They choose the path themselves. It's kind of inherent within vampires. They either have the ambitions of recognition, or the desire to live in hidden peace, and it's all natural. It's entirely subjective, and not all take to the streets to wipe out those who oppose them. Depends on what they were like as humans too. Lots of factors. For example, Football-Troy would almost certainly be a predator. See what I mean?” Louis asked patiently, nodding when Niall’s eyes lit up.

“So do all predators and Guardians know each other? How many are there?” Niall then inquired, smartly asking all the right questions as far as Louis was concerned.

“Well that’s where it gets complicated,” Louis said, scratching at his scalp and leaning forward in his seat as he gathered all his thoughts. “The Elders do, but that’s sometimes more to do with age than camaraderie. Think of all the undocumented teenage immortals out there, doing whatever the fuck they want and causing trouble; other teenagers may stop them because they feel their actions aren’t justified. Right? That goes on by itself without provocation, and they likely don’t even know about the two sides of their kind. Now...when you go up the foodchain of vampires in higher ages, it starts to become more political. Instead of fighting on the streets like commoners, Elder predators and Guardians more closely resemble two enemy governments in an ongoing war with each other. Speak your questions now before I go on,” he paused to say, letting Niall ingest that information before he’d fill him with more.

“So the Elders on both sides know each other?” the blonde assumed from the knowledge he’d received, trying his best to follow along and hoping he was, the unaddressed Tanner also eating up Louis’ words like they were a source of blood.

“That’s regional, and has a lot to do with aristocracy. I’d say the richest and oldest families or covens in each country are well aware of each other, and the richest of those are probably in contact with the others of the world. Liam, can you get deeper on that?” he asked their Guardian company, wondering why he hadn’t just had him explain from the start.

“Yes, of course. I don’t like to boast about my wealth, but I would indeed consider myself a part of that bunch in England. There are more Elders in large cities to watch over the areas and stop predators from making a mess of things, but rural areas tend to have fewer, which is why the Guardian’s of England are having to _travel_ here versus just knocking on the d—”

“Wait...I’m sorry for interrupting, but where were these Guardians when New York was getting obliterated?” Niall asked, hoping he didn’t get killed for rudeness, but it was something he needed to know.

“They were around; I could smell them,” Harry affirmed, meeting Niall’s eyes and giving him a sad smile. “That attack was too big for them to stop. No one expected Auron’s plan to happen quite like this.”

“I guess,” Niall accepted, sinking down in his chair and looking back to Liam apologetically.

“No matter, I understand your anger. Harry’s right; this was too quick to respond to—a flash flood. Damage control is hard to do when fresh vampires are being mass created by the second,” he sighed, furious regardless that it had happened at all. “So anyway, I have limited amounts of contact with the Guardians of the world, my base is more here in the homeland, but I’m having members over who will better answer those kinds of questions,” he said, shrugging his shoulders because that was kind of all he had to offer for now.

“Alright...alright I think I get it,” Niall said with an adorable showing of confidence, making Louis smile behind his fist.

“You’ll learn, dear,” Louis assured, glad at least that Harry had gotten over his earlier bout of pettiness and was now cuddling him like he was a teddy bear and Harry was the nightmare-stricken child. Although...in this case, it was Louis who had experienced the nightmares…

“Ah, there they are!” Liam announced in relief, waltzing out of the living room and holding a hand out to tell the occupants of the living room to stay put.

Now that he’d mentioned it, Louis could smell the approaching Elders too, and though he wanted to go out and meet them, he stayed put, mentally preparing himself for their prissy speeches of justice and honour. At least he didn’t have to worry about them calling Auron the moment they saw him; that’s gotta count for something.

“How do I talk to them?” Niall asked in a panic, straightening his shirt as if that made one speck of difference.

“I don’t know, but you better figure it out because they already heard you say that,” Louis laughed, his grin splitting his cheeks when Niall stole the image of a deer in headlights. “Best to leave the talking to the grown-ups,” he said for no other reason than to condescend, standing with Harry and facing the doorway the Guardians would come ambling through.

Niall seemed more than happy to stay silent and even Zayn looked to be in the same position. In fact, Martin, Erakus, and Marley were all staying sat and looking off in the distance, none feeling they were old enough to exchange words with Guardian Elders. Louis rolled his eyes (even though he tried not to) but a part of him was smug about it. Sue him.

“—Hadrian of Rome, now Harry, and Alexander the Great, now Louis,” Louis heard Liam say outside as they congregated by the front door, the King listening to the croak of its hinges as Liam invited them inside.

Footsteps and quieted conversation neared the living room, and when the first Elder stepped through the archway, he gave a subtle nod of his head in respect and slid to the side to give everyone else space to enter. A group of seven trailed in after him, and they were conclusively made up of four males and four females. They all peered at the other two Elders, and almost immediately a pair of blonde twins squealed and ran toward Harry, throwing their arms around him as he laughed in surprise.

“Lauren! Lawrence!” the Roman greeted joyously, letting them go to get a good look at them.

“We didn't know it was you, Harry! Your name was Hadrian and you _never told us?”_ Lauren chided, throwing her arm around her twin brother while they both painted on faces of exaggerated hurt.

“I'm sorry, guys. I hadn't gone by Hadrian in a long time when I met you. Shit, when was that?” he asked quizzically, all three considering the mystery.

“Musta been...end of sixteenth century, right?” Lawrence guessed, looking to his sister for verification.

“Summat like that,” Lauren nodded, still drinking in the features of the vampire who had practically wiped himself from the face of the Earth.

“Liam! You knew Harry and you never bloody said anyfin?” Lawrence demanded over his shoulder, the Elder of the house shrugging innocently in response.

“I didn't know you knew him too,” he informed, cordially leading the group further into the room because they'd frozen by the hall when the twins had shrieked in glee.

Louis had watched the reunion in amusement, and he would have put in his two cents and introductions when a voice from the back beat him to it.

“Aléxandros ho Mégas…”

His eyes wandered to the black-haired Elder male with a starstruck expression on his face, and he took the bait. “You're Greek,” he commented first, walking around Harry to study the olive-skinned ancient Elder. “You're older than Hadrian, who are you?” he asked, the room falling quiet while they interacted.

“My name is now Oliver. But back then, I went by Lacydes of Cyrene,” he said, not looking at all offended that Alexander now wore a blank expression.

“Never heard of you,” Louis said bluntly.

“Few have…” Lacydes (Oliver) agreed, his pitiful sigh displaying he'd irrefutably mourned over his lack of fame for millennia. “I was head of the Academy at Athens, and a hopeful philosopher/poet, but I burned all my works...nobody read them anyway,” he griped, his attitude putting everyone in an awkward mood.

“You shouldn't ever burn your art before your death, or in your case turning. Take Vincent Van Gogh, for instance. Nobody gave a shit about him until after his mania drove him to madness and later self-inflicted death. Think what would have happened if he'd destroyed all his paintings. Art museums would be missing a section they didn't even know they needed,” he reasoned, unfortunately making Oliver’s mood plummet even gloomier—apparently he'd never thought of it that way.

“Can it truly be,” a vampire with short grey hair breathed, stepping away from the woman and man he’d been standing familiarly close to and cautiously approaching who was said to be Alexander the Great—and he could believe it. “Alexander?” he asked, the other two of his affectionate trio tiptoeing up behind him to stare at the Elder in question.

“Louis now, but yes. Who’s asking?” Louis asked neutrally, displaying neither kindness nor scorn.

“Julius,” the frontman answered, a hand coming up to the center of his chest to illustrate he was indeed speaking of himself.

“Heh...Et tu, Brute?” Harry snickered off to the side, his facial expression going into shock when Julius only scowled at him in response. _Was it something I said?_

“Speak not to me of _William Shakespeare_ ,” Julius seethed, the other two vampires beside him nearly gagging on the name.

“Wait...are you Julius Caesar? You’re _actually_ Julius Caesar?” Harry gushed incredulously, having grown up surrounded by legends of the great Roman general. He never imagined himself being in Caesar’s presence, and had he known he was immortal, he would have gone looking for him ages ago.

“I never even said that!” Julius snapped in reference to the iconic ‘quote’ of his, setting the record straight once and for all. “I said nothing. That death was carefully staged to help me disappear. I was never betrayed by my comrades! Yet I know that is how it appeared, it may have fallen into murmurs of history...but that playwright cemented these inaccuracies into society in the most dramatic way possible!”

“Especially considering Julie and I are _lovers_ , not enemies,” the male vampire beside him muttered indignantly, his two hands curling around Julius’s shoulder to rest his chin on his hands.

“And who are you?” Harry asked, cocking his head to the side and recovering from the quick fear he’d had that he was Brutus, discarding that because Julius and Brutus being lovers would be absolutely ridicu—

“Bernard...otherwise Brutus,” the vampire stated in annoyance, puffing his chest when Harry unleashed a single, shrill bark of laughter in amazement.

“And you?” Harry then asked the unidentified female, her earthy brown skin making her green eyes shine like serpentine explosions.

“Petra,” she said, linking her fingers with Julius’s and smirking at the old Roman Emperor.

“Petra…” Harry repeated, his tongue nearly poking out of his lips as he calculated what that could be. “Petra, Petra. Petra? _Patra? Are you Cleopatra?”_ he breathed in awe.

“ _Queen_ Cleopatra—of Egypt, yes,” she said, raising a defined brow at the look of childlike glee from Hadrian.

“Ahh, Egypt. I was Pharaoh of Egypt once,” Alexander mused, his eyebrows raising a fraction at the instantaneous and wildly negative reaction he received.

“Pharaoh of Egypt,” Cleopatra spat, her cold eyes narrowing on Alexander in disgust. How she'd hated that name and the city she grew up in that belonged to him. “You weren't even _Egyptian_!”

“Cleo—”

“No, Julius. I've never understood your inspired obsession with this man. He is nothing but a pious villain,” she seethed, standing brave and courageous in the face of her Elder.

“Not Pius. Pius was Hadrian’s successor,” Louis snorted, truthfully surprised at her hatred, but utterly unintimidated by it.

“Leave me out of this!” Hadrian whisper-shouted, grinning innocently when Cleopatra turned her fiery stare onto him, then sighing in relief when it locked back on Alexander.

“Cleo, you were born in Alexandria, were you not?” Louis mentioned, scratching his chin and marinating in superiority. “Fancy that, I wonder who founded that city…”

“ _You_ —”

“Enough, Cleo!” Julius barked, gently urging her back to take matters into his hands, his expression showcasing his second-hand regret and embarrassment. “Forgive us,” he said, shooting warning looks at Cleo before she made everything worse.

“What's to forgive? You think I don't know my worth?” he asked rhetorically, laughing at the very thought. “I am in no need of your validation.”

“Let me hence! Alexander...you made me into the man I am,” Julius confessed regardless of Alexander’s modesty, grasping the King’s hand and gandering at him as if he were a God, completely ignoring Cleo’s affronted scoff at his behavior. He’d deal with her later. “I remember viewing a marble effigy of you in my early twenties...I was the same age you had been when it had been sculpted, and I remember thinking that you'd done so much more in your life by that point than I, so I vowed to your image that I would surpass my tumult and accomplish much more than I had—everything in my capability.”

“And did you?” Louis asked, humbled (arrogant) that he'd unknowingly played such a large role in another person’s life...but who is he kidding? He does that to everyone. Except for Queen Cleopatra, apparently.

“Not to your standards,” Julius admitted, training his gaze just beneath Alexander’s eyes so he didn't have to look into them directly.

“Mine may have been too high anyway,” Louis brushed, shrugging his way off the scene and sitting down in one of the couches.

“Veni vidi vici!” Niall cried to Julius with outstretched arms, trying to come across as knowledgeable and well educated.

Louis and Harry snorted into their palms in bemusement, and Julius groaned to the ceiling in frustration. “Why does everyone keep _saying that_ to me?” he begged, having heard that mysterious phrase follow him his entire existence.

“That’s not how you say that, Niall,” Louis chuckled, tiredly running his hand down his face as Niall spluttered in confusion.

“It’s not?” the blonde asked meekly, his cheeks tingling like they could be blushing if he were alive.

“No. V’s are W’s, and the C is a K,” Louis informed, watching the dumbstruck Niall as he frantically reorganized everything in his mind, staring straight ahead like the phrase was written in the air and he was plugging the new pieces into the formula to make it fit.

“So it’s... _wenny weedy weekey_?” he scoffed in serious doubt, the phrase losing every bit of its powerful sound when the assumedly correct pronunciation was placed.

“Ohhhh,” Julius drawled in sudden understanding, wondering how nearly every person on Earth had mispronounced that.

Louis snorted again and gave Niall a tiny salute with one finger from his forehead to say he’d gotten it right, and the blonde’s jaw dropped in surprise. Latin wasn’t nearly as easy as it looked.

A silence filled the air as no one offered any continuations to the conversation, and Liam was just about to move things along when a girl with long brown hair stepped into the center of the room and cleared her throat.

“Right, well I'm Annabelle,” she said, looking to each face as she spoke. “Queen of nothing, ruler of nothing, leader of nothing, but I've been around a sickeningly long time,” she said in a thick cockney accent, clapping her hands together and rubbing her palms back and forth.

“Oh _finally_!” Niall cried, jogging up to her and excitedly shaking her hand. “Hello, I'm Niall. It's a pleasure to meet you; a _normal_ Elder; I honestly didn’t think I’d ever meet one of you! This is a dream come true!” he cried, thanking the heavens for letting just one immortal Elder be in his life that didn’t hold some infamous title. “How have you lived this long?”

“Very secretly,” she giggled with a wink, patting Niall on the blonde head. “Under the radar’s where _I_ live,” she said as she tapped her nose, bestowing upon the baby vampire the most crucial piece of advice she could give.

“Hah!” Niall shrieked, throwing his arms around her and grinning when she hugged him back. “Amazing.”

The two walked out of the center and made small talk with Zayn, and the Elders wondered when they would get down to important business—but none really wanted to.

“I’m Finley,” another male said to finish the introductions, this one looking to be of middle-eastern descent and had eyed Zayn since they’d gotten in each other’s sights. “Are you an Afghan?” he finally asked as he walked up to him, grasping Zayn’s forearm tightly.

“Pakistan. Bahawalpur,” Zayn specified with a smile, silently waiting for his fellow middle-eastern to note where he’d come from.

“I was born in 8 a.d. in Peshawar during the time of the Kushan Empire, in what is now Afghanistan,” Finley said, jumping into an explanation of why his name was so off-putting of his heritage. “I was originally called Sadaṣkaṇa, but after the death of Vasudeva I, the last great Kushan, I fled to Greece, unable to watch my empire crumble before my eyes,” he said, Zayn’s eyes now the widest they could get after slowly opening them more and more with every word.

“The Kushans spoke Bactrian, right?” Harry asked, trying to recall the little things he’d learned from their contact with Rome. He was only a child at the time, so it was hard to remember, but if he really focused, he could probably remember a few words.

“Bactrian and Greek,” Finley said, turning back to Zayn and releasing his arm from the greeting that neither of them had broken yet. “Old, though. Don't even think I could speak Bactrian anymore,” he mused, trying to think in the tongue of his original language.

“You speak perfect English,” Niall complimented, thinking the same of everyone else who came from a time before the language had been founded.

“I've had a long time to practice,” Finley said with a wink.

“How come almost all of you England Guardians are from somewhere else?” Niall asked, wondering why it was so multi-cultured when they could be fighting for their birthplaces.

“Irony,” almost every Elder in the room said at once, secretly smiling at each other in agreement. Britannia had fucked with them all at one point.

Niall didn't understand at all, but he quit while he was ahead. Elders were especially easy to set off temper-wise, and he'd learned that lesson too many times.

“Sorry I'm late!” a female Elder suddenly shouted as she burst through the front doors and ran into the living room, giant frizzy hair and big eyes to match giving her the appearance of a rock and roll lemur, her olden layers of tattered dresses and brown leather heeled boots pegging her in an earlier time period than this one, that was for sure.

“Beatrix!” Liam greeted in relief, taking her in his arms while she laughed melodically.

“Can you believe—do you know—I can't even count the number of vampires I had to fight on my way here,” she panted, stepping out of Liam’s arms and booping Johnny on the nose on her way to an open chair. “Coming from Yorkshire was a real piece of work. I don't recommend going through London right now, but that's what I did, innit? _Cor_. Me hometown’s a mess,” she sighed, sinking into her chair and looking around the room, stopping short when she noticed Harry and Louis.

“Well we’re glad you're—”

“‘Ang on,” she said, cutting Liam off without guilt, pointing her finger between the strangers and furrowing her brows. “Who do we have?” she asked in intrigue, studying Louis and Harry like lab rats.

“Bea, this is Hadrian of Rome and Alexander the Great,” Liam announced, wondering what his friend would do because she wasn't saying anything.

“Beatrix, was it?” Louis asked to steer her back into talking-mode, smiling to egg her on when she flicked her gaze toward him.

“Yeah, thassright,” she quipped with a heavy dialect accent, shaking her head (and her gravity-defying hair) and trying the introductions again. “Nice to meet you both.”

Another silence filled the air until Liam clapped his hands, turning all eyes to him. “Good, we’re all here. Alright! So...end of the world,” he said, a chorus of ‘oh yeah’ popping up in the room like whack-a-mole as the Guardians dutifully gathered around the coffee table, kicking everyone not involved out of their spots so they could talk.

“Alright, guys. To your rooms, then. Come on, pip pip,” Johnny urged, leading the humans and household vampires alike through the archway to the stairs that would take them to their rooms. He then walked back and took a seat on Liam’s lap, almost daring the Guardians to have anything to say about it. Louis admired his confidence.

“Ours aren't going anywhere,” Harry said, motioning for his vampires to stay put when they started to move too.

“That's fine,” Julius accepted, Cleo and Brutus (or _Petra and Bernard_ ) stood on his either side behind his chair, looking every bit as professional and motivated as he.

“Have any of you contacted anyone outside the country?” Liam asked, looking around to his fellow nine Guardians, unfortunately seeing the same far-off and worried expressions on their faces.

“We heard from Germany,” Lauren piped from under her brother’s arm on the couch, Lawrence nodding along with pursed lips. “It’s bad,” she added solemnly.

“We just saw a news broadcast before coming here,” Petra mentioned, Julius putting his forehead in his hands as Bernard rubbed at his back. “Buckingham Palace was getting raided by the predators. I can only assume that means they’re going after the human governments.”

“I saw it!” Beatrix blurted, her eyes filled with sadness as she recalled the sight. “I wanted to pass by there anyway, and it was bloody flooded. I mean they were everywhere, I couldn’t have stopped them all, not even me,” she said apologetically, appearing disappointed in herself regardless of the sour odds.

“It’s okay, Bea. We’re all a little outnumbered,” Johnny said, surprisingly not getting even the littlest bit discouraged from speaking out as a human.

“Where are the other Guardians?” Louis asked, needing someone to get on this international shit because if they had no order, they had absolutely nothing to work with. “We need constant contact with every country.”

“Blackouts,” Annabelle responded, not exactly _cringing_ under the King’s stare but definitely rushing to explain. “I tried phoning my friend in Norway, and the line was dead. Looks like they’re attacking the power lines in remote areas of countries. They likely still need the city power running, but something tells me with enough contact and planning with each other, they’ll be confident enough to cut it all,” she sighed, idly braiding her long brown hair just to keep herself busy.

“This happened flawlessly,” Finley groaned to second her theory. “They've obviously been planning this for centuries, and the plan likely changed time and time again as technology advanced. They certainly knew exactly what they were doing, it happened so bloody fast… But why now?”

“We might have something to do with that,” Louis admitted, getting skewered with looks from all sides, including right beside him by Harry. “What?” he asked his lover. “You don't think it's a bit fishy that this happens the very month I come back? The month he finally sees you again? I'm sure the timing has everything to do with us,” he reasoned, crossing his arms petulantly because he didn't desire getting blamed for all of this and he could almost feel that attempted guilt-trip looming on the horizon.

“Who's ‘he’?” Oliver inquired, asking the question on everyone's mind who hadn't been there from the start to know already.

“The vampire in charge of all this...my brother,” Harry confessed with a heavy heart, leaning back in the couch and fisting a hand in his hair.

“Is this the ‘Bastion’ we keep hearing about?” Lawrence asked, the name sparking recognition among some of the Elders.

“You have a brother?” Lauren asked offhandedly, quickly ingesting this new information.

“First off, his name is Auron. And yes, obviously I have a brother. He's my twin,” he said, flinching when the other twins gasped like they'd been slapped.

“You have a _twin_ and you _didn't_ tell us?” Lauren chided, steering the conversation in a direction it didn't need to go.

“I'm not exactly proud of the relation,” Harry grumbled, refusing to look at the twins’ faces because this was not a fact he deserved to feel guilty for not sharing.

“But this is kind of good, right? I mean you two have a connection we could exploit,” Finley said hopefully, rolling along with the given facts because he'd never met Harry before and this revelation wasn’t as jarring to him as it clearly was to some.

“Not even slightly,” Harry shot down, his anger written all over his face as he thought about his brother. “The only connection Auron has to me is sharing a womb, murdering my lovers, and wanting to kill me.”

“But you know a lot about him,” Finley pressed, unwilling to accept that this relation would never come in handy.

“I guess so, yeah,” Harry supposed, delving deeper into the full picture. “There’s another piece to this, though. Our maker is also involved. I think Auron is just doing his bidding, and he...I can’t say for absolute certain, but I think Azazel might be an original.”

“Originals! That's a myth,” Beatrix said immediately, nearly laughing at the insinuation.

“Is it?” Louis challenged, piercing her with a look that said they didn’t have the time to squabble over this detail but that he would anyway. “Whether he is or isn't barely matters because either way, he's bad fucking news. But I don’t know, I’ve been doing some thinking and...I think maybe mine might have been one too,” he said carefully, reluctantly opening up the floor for discussion.

“What?” Harry snapped, fully turning in the couch to face Louis head-on. “Your first maker? Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“ _First_?” Annabelle repeated in puzzlement, her hands frozen on her braid as she tried to configure that ludicrous specification.

Louis huffed and twisted around to catch her in his glare. “Not right now,” he said tiredly, turning back to speak to Harry. “Because it wasn’t relevant? And I still don’t know for sure, but...he was definitely different,” Louis said vaguely, not able to get much more descriptive than that because he still didn’t understand it himself.

“Originals don’t exist,” Beatrix continued, shaking her head to display her disagreement. “Where would they have come from, huh? Who would have made _them_?” she asked pointedly, staring into Louis’ eyes as they narrowed at her.

“You wanna get that deep? Okay, let’s waste the time. If we’re using that logic, how the fuck were _any_ of _us_ made?” he shot back, grudgingly jumping into the age old question of existence. “How the fuck did vampires come from _nothing_ if there weren’t originals to start us? Chicken or the egg, lady,” he muttered, making most faces in the room scrunch with confusion as they debated how indeed they’d come to be. Originals had never been proven, but their species had to have been born from something unnatural, or they wouldn’t be here.

“We’re talking about the wrong fucking thing here,” Zayn said bravely, slapping his hand down on the coffee table to command order. “We are scattered...and they have an _army_ ,” he stressed, making eye contact with all the Elders to make them conceptualize the desperate times they were in if they hadn’t already. “Now I hear they’re going around trying to cut phone lines to separate us further. This is something we can’t let happen! We need communication with the Guardians; we need to find them. All of them,” he said gruffly, ignoring the worshiping kisses Niall speckled all over his cheeks.

“Exactly. We need an opposing force just as great to give the humans their world back,” Bernard said, just as blank as to how they would, but recognizing the importance of the ultimate goal.

“It’s not their world anymore,” Beatrix sighed in regret, the images of London in a panic flashing before her eyes.

“It is _absolutely_ their world,” Louis contested, picking a bone with her once again because they’d gotten off to a weird start and it hadn’t righted itself yet. “Have you forgotten what it is to be human? Have any of you forgotten that you were _all_ human at one point in your existences? Humans evolved on this planet, _they_ created civilizations, made languages to speak, built structures and modeled society as a whole. That was them. _They’re_ the natural ones here, not us. Unless one of you is an original you keep denying, we are _all_ unnatural results of vampirism. We turned to be this way, but we were _born human_. We lived as humans. Don’t you dare say the world isn’t theirs. No matter the gravity of current affairs, we need to reverse it and protect the humans at all costs! This is what we Guardians stand for. It’s _all_ we stand for—get your head out of your dusty ass,” he finished, eliciting a round of applause from Tanner and the English twins.

“I didn’t mean it like that anyway,” Beatrix said sincerely, her eyes downcast from the force of that speech.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just…” Louis cut off with a sigh, running his hand through his hair and backing himself off the ledge of tantrum.

“I have a question,” Niall said shyly, shifting on Zayn’s lap and thinking of the best way to bring it forth.

“Yes?” Louis asked, not looking to his friend until he spoke the first word of his tentative inquiry.

“Well...how can you massacre humans in The Bronx and still appreciate them so much?” he asked, accepting the notion of a punch in the face if it came his way.

“You massacred in The Bronx recently?” Liam demanded, glaring at both Louis and Harry’s guilty faces.

“That was an isolated incident!” Louis defended with a jabbing point of his finger at Niall, turning then to the vampire of the house to plead his case. “I needed that. Give us amnesty on that crime; our kind is completely exposed now, and we killed all our witnesses. Except the ones who saw us afterward,” he added thoughtfully, shaking his head and turning his angry eyes back on Niall. “But in any case, that was _one time_. No one here’s gonna be massacring humans again any time soon, I can assure you that. They’re in far greater peril from predators than us now. We didn’t start this.”

“Okay, I’ll look past it,” Liam agreed, still a bit annoyed that Harry had done something like that after so long of abstaining, but Alexander seemed to be quite the powerful influence over him. From what Harry had told him of his reincarnation before he’d woken, Liam was just happy that Harry was nurtured by his true love again—he’d been a mess of incurable depression when Liam had met him, so one massacre in celebration was easy enough to forgive. “So what do we do?”

“Well…” Louis drawled, wondering that very thing himself. “We need the Guardians. Someone needs to find all of them in this country. We can’t all go to one country and forsake our own, but we need to group together. A full sweep respectively to find every last vampire in opposition. All of you need to get a hold of every single Guardian you know in every country you have access to, and tell them to do the same thing. Gather everyone who sides with us and stay in close contact. Start banding together to maybe have a chance at matching the enemy numbers.”

“Go everywhere,” Harry added, the beginnings of the plan filling him with determination. “I don’t care if they were turned three bloody weeks ago; they don’t like what’s happening, they’re on our side, we need them,” he listed choppily, thinking hard to remember where all of his casual friends were in the world.

“This is crucial,” Finely agreed, his forehead only losing a little bit of its ridges, but it felt damn good to smooth them out. “We don’t know how many of us there even are. We don’t know how many have been killed already. But we need whoever we can get. Let them know there’s a _movement_ happening against this travesty. Brew a little hope within the righteous. Show them they’re not alone. Give them a reason to fight.”

“And I think we _can_ get this out worldwide. My hope is that communication will grow like the branches of a tree. Maybe _we_ don’t know a Guardian in Jamaica, but maybe someone in Spain we call _will_. See what I mean? We’re unfortunately separated from looking after our own countries for so long, but we need to work as a global unit now. The enemy army is completely united under one cause, and one leader. We need to be too. At the _very least_ , a cause,” Annabelle piped, wholly unwilling to dive into who would be the resistance’s leader, though a safe bet was Alexander or Hadrian.

“Which is why _our personal_ goal needs to be taking out your brother,” Louis said to Harry, who nodded in fervent agreement. “We’re the only ones who really can. At least, I think I could work my way in there,” he said, cringing over the connection that he seemed to have with Auron. Was it because Auron had come in contact with his human soul through the lure? Louis obviously had a greater and romantically fated connection to Hadrian, but Auron’s was out of hate. Sometimes evil was more visceral; louder; more adamant. A relationship filled with undying love was like a sedative to the mind—it was calming, relaxing, and comfortable. A relationship bred of hate and murder was jagged and incongruent to its counterpart. It stood out. You noticed it because it didn't fit. Still though...him and Hadrian had never shared a dream before... _This is gonna drive me nuts._

“I think we have a sliver of a plan, then,” Liam said gladly, checking the faces of the room to see if everyone was on the same page.

“Looks like it,” the twins said at once, as twins normally do.

“Collection. We're all to reach out to all the Guardians we can, and hunt down any individuals who share our passion to fix this. Keep our communication afloat and unite ourselves. Once this is done, we can start configuring how we're gonna go about this.”

“But do this secretly. We can't let the predators know what we're up to. We don't even know the numbers our side will amount to. We could still end up outnumbered in the end, and we should avoid putting ourselves all in one place to make it easier to attack in one sweep. Just use common sense,” Louis added, crossing one knee over the other and snuggling into Harry’s side.

“We’ll be off then. If all phone lines are cut, we'll meet you here,” Julius said, everyone else voicing that same promise.

“But first, the Guardian coalition,” Liam stressed, making it clear that was a first priority no matter what. “If you do have to come back here, it better be with every Guardian in England.”

“Woohoo treasure hunt!” Lauren hollered, leaping off the couch with Lawrence and pulling Harry up to hug him as everyone started to leave.

“It was nice to meet you,” Finley said to Zayn, the two grasping their forearms to cordially part.

“Believe me, the pleasure was mine. Meeting a Kushan isn't something I will forget,” Zayn replied, letting the ancient go with a small bow.

“You would have been great in my time,” Finley noted, waving to Niall as he made his way to the front doors.

“As much as I detest you—” Petra began to Louis, as Caesar and Brutus were busy saying their goodbye’s to their fellow Roman, “—you do have some good ideas,” she admitted, the tiniest hint of a smile playing with her full lips.

“That base acceptance is all I require,” Louis responded with a complete but friendly smirk. “...Cleo of _Alexandria_ ,” he added to stir the pot, laughing when she rolled her eyes and turned away from him.

“What an honour it was to meet you, Alexander,” Julius said, Bernard under his arm and grinning at him just the same. “We’ll be in touch,” he said, the romantic trio swiftly exiting the building as Louis waved them off.

Eventually all the visiting Guardians flew off to their areas, where they would go through their lists of contacts and voice this budding plan to every immortal they could. After that, they would sweep down the nation of England and round up all stragglers with their shared vision, and Louis could only pray to Zeus that they wouldn’t be found and eliminated on the way. What a shitty turn of events.

“Do you guys have anyone to contact yourselves?” Liam asked after returning to the living room, Johnny having brought all their housemates back into the room now that they were alone. They’d heard everything, of course, and were prepared to do anything in their power.

“Yeah, we do,” Louis affirmed, a certain redhead warlock coming to mind.

“Phone’s over here,” Liam said, leading them into the kitchen where a rotary telephone sat on the floral wallpapered wall—the only example of the 70’s in the whole house.

Louis took it off its base and dialed Harlock’s number, realizing that it if was ten at night here, then it was three in the afternoon in Idaho, but hopefully some of the humans would be awake. This couldn’t exactly wait. His wishes were granted when the phone line picked up and Jenner’s familiar voice called out frantically. “It’s Louis.”

“Louis!” the warlock groaned in relief, calling Harlock over the moment he’d confirmed his suspicion.

“Harlock is awake?” Louis asked, Harry stood directly beside him to listen in and add his two cents to the upcoming conversation.

“I daylighted him upon request. We haven’t slept once yet,” Jenner said with a yawn, the audible footsteps of Harlock coming up to the phone in the office that Louis could see clearly in his mind.

“That isn’t good, Jenner. You two can’t wear yourselves out, we need you to stay strong,” Louis scolded, well aware of his hypocrisy because if he could walk around in the sun, he wouldn’t have slept yet either.

“Kinda hard to let myself right now,” Harlock said into the line, him and Harry exchanging short greetings as Louis held the phone out for him.

“So here’s the plan,” Louis said, repeating everything that had been spoken earlier with the Guardians, and what Harlock could do from his side. Questions were asked and answered in order of importance, and the unconventional couple agreed to let themselves rest so they could start tracking down the resistance in America. When everything was laid out on the table and discussed, the farewells began to be administered, but Louis had one last question to ask them.

“What is it?” Jenner replied diligently, a noise coming through that hinted he was twirling the spiral cord around his finger.

“How’s my Mother?” Louis asked, needing to know she was safe for his peace of mind.

“Uh...she’s uh...I mean she’s _fine_ ,” Jenner tiptoed, Harlock snapping his fingers to take the phone.

“Harlock,” Louis pressed sternly, “what are you hiding?”

“Stacey’s a vampire,” Harlock stated bluntly, not sharing Jenner’s nerves over breaking that news to the King.

“She’s _what_?” Louis squeaked, not necessarily angry over it, but he never would have seen that coming.

“Her and Jet were terrified when this catastrophe broke, and she asked it of Jet, and Jet would never turn her down, so they took the final step. They’ve been inseparable since you left, and from what I can tell, Stacey’s really happy with her. She’s asleep right now obviously, I know she’d wanna hear from you, but do you have a message I could give her?” he asked, and Louis could just picture Jenner with a notepad and a pen at the desk.

“Ugh, Zeus. This is...okay,” Louis accepted, setting aside his shock to get some kind of message across. “Tell her I said to be fucking careful, and have immortality be the first _and last_ impulsive decision she makes from now on. Tell her I’m alright for now, that I miss her, that I’m gonna fix this and...and tell Jet if she breaks her heart, I’m going to do terrible things to her,” he added darkly, unable to keep that threat to himself.

“Stacey is Jet’s creation, don’t worry about that. I mean she loved her before, but it’s eternal now. I’ll still tell her, though. That defensive argument will be hilarious,” Harlock chuckled, handing the phone back to Jenner after telling Harry not to get himself killed.

“We’re gonna win, Lou,” Jenner said confidently, making Louis smile though he couldn’t see it.

“With that attitude, how could we not?” Louis laughed, sharing a fond look with Harry because they both loved that warlock like a little brother.

They wrapped up the last of the well wishes (after Erakus, Tanner, and Marley had burst into the room to voice their hello’s and goodbye’s as well), and hung up the call, the ancients standing in each other’s arms and looking to the archway when Zayn and Niall ambled into the kitchen.

“Do you want to call Maura and Bobby?” Louis asked his forlorn best friend, stepping away from Harry to rub the blonde’s shoulders in sympathy.

“No,” Niall sighed, wishing he could but holding himself back for reasons he considered logical.

“Are you _sure_?” Louis stressed, a hand dipping below Niall’s chin to turn his face up.

“Yeah...they’re smart people. If there was any chance for them to be somewhere safeish, they’ll have done it by now. If they’re not safe...well, I don’t want to know. But even if they _are_ fine, if I call and they don’t answer...I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to hear that family voicemail. I won’t know what to think and I’m gonna assume the worst,” Niall said, looking away from the unintended pity in Louis’ eyes because he didn’t want to be the object of it. He was fine.

“I understand,” Louis nodded, scratching at Niall’s scalp and chuckling because somewhere along the journey, Niall had gained some wisdom. “But I feel a bit responsible. We probably should have taken them to Harlock’s,” he admitted, not a fan of voicing he’d made a wrong decision.

“Pft,” Niall spat in disagreement, grinning as he imagined how that would have turned out. “You know my parents. They never would have stayed. High chance they would have held it together, and then snuck out the first day in a panicked frenzy, then called the police...it would have been a mess,” he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders to trick himself into accepting the situation. “It’s okay.”

“Alright,” Louis said, kissing the blonde on the forehead and returning to Harry’s side, figuring they should probably get some sex in while they still could.

“I hope my fish are okay,” Zayn murmured, winning himself two mirrored looks of incredulity from Louis and Harry.

“Are you _still_ thinking about your fucking fish?” Harry demanded in disbelief, wondering how his best friend could be so short-sighted.

“Right, cuz Thomas would choose to die at the hands of invading predators to defend my fish rather than flee to protect himself,” the vampire said painfully sarcastically, wondering how _his_ best friend could be so heartless.

“So what if he did leave?” Erakus asked, failing to see the issue here. “They’re just fish, right? They can live on their own a while…”

“No, they can’t!” Zayn roared passionately, his blazing eyes boring into Erakus’s speechless face. “They need food, a clean tank, _attention_ —”

“This is where we leave,” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him out of the kitchen as the fish debate got louder and more aggressive. He walked back through the living room and stopped a human on the way, beckoning him forward and sinking his extended fangs into his neck while he snapped his fingers and pointed to the other side, telling Harry to join in without need for words.

If Harry was confused he didn’t show it, biting into the whining human and drinking his fill while Louis delivered a cheeky spank to his arse. They backed the human to the couch and pulled off when they were satisfied, lifting his frail body over the back of the furniture and placing his dazed self upon the cushions to recuperate.

Louis wiped his mouth and linked his fingers with Harry’s, leading him out the front door and taking his first deep breath of the humid English air after centuries away from it (as Alexander). “Ahh. Smells the same dump it always has,” he muttered, filling his nose with the scent of brine and a new tint of pollution.

“I think it’s lovely,” Harry noted, inhaling the refreshing ocean breeze and stumbling when Louis pulled him wayside toward a nearby garden. They quickly looked behind them to get a view of the house from the outside, and it was so gorgeous they had to stop altogether.

“Wow,” Louis quipped, his eyes roaming over the home that they’d unconsciously entered.

It had two main levels, but it was obvious from the cathedral roof with three protruding windows of its own that there was an expansive attic that made up the third story. The front doors were symmetrically placed in the center of the rectangular front face, surrounded by four windows on each side, four more that lined with them on the second floor, and one fifth (on the second floor as well) just above the doors.

The heavy black doors were framed by a brick awning that was made up of multiple reddish colours (contrasting the grey bricks of the entire structure), and to the right of this main rectangle house, was a sodding _castle tower_ , no doubt hiding a spiral staircase that led to the top, and Louis had to laugh at it. What was the point? Good look-out, though. No denying that.

“Why were we going to the gardens?” Harry whispered after he’d gotten his viewing in, steering Louis back to the initial purpose of leaving the house.

“Mmm...so you can fuck me in them,” Louis said impishly, turning away from the castle-like house and hooking a leg up around Harry’s hip, promptly joining it with the other one and letting himself be carried across the grass toward the overgrown flowerbeds. Beds that were hopefully far enough away that not _everyone_ was forced to listen to their lovemaking—but he really didn’t give a shit either way.

“You always were the one to take opportunities when they arose,” Harry noted shakily, his arousal compromising the strength in his vocal chords.

Louis disagreed because he’d let a lot of things slip by him when he should have done something about them, but he hadn’t ever passed up a chance to be penetrated by Hadrian, and that _was_ a fact. “Guess what else is gonna arise?” he chuckled instead of admitting his faults, reaching a hand behind him and sliding it down to Harry’s groin, cackling when he felt how hard the Roman was over his jeans.

“Guess what already rose two minutes ago?” Harry laughed, running with a bit of a limp to the gardens and throwing Louis off of him while he carefully tore at his own clothes (so he could put them back on afterward) while Louis slipped out of his in kind, both lovers then snaking their arms around the other’s naked body under the romantic hue of the moonlight.

“You’re so beautiful, Haydree,” Louis praised, standing on his tiptoes to kiss those Roman lips.

Harry reacted with immediate passion and deepened the kiss, taking over the King’s mouth and running his hands everywhere as roughly as he could, using two claws to slice Louis’ back and wet his two middle fingers with blood, then guiding the hand (with retracted nails in case you were wondering) to Louis’ hole and delicately prod at his entrance.

Louis broke the kiss with a gasp and pushed Hadrian backward, landing on top of him as they both crashed down on a bed of daisies, Harry’s expert fingers pushing their way inside without a hiccup from the harsh landing. Louis whined as Harry’s fingers drove deeper and rubbed at his walls, connecting their lips again and moaning onto his tongue whenever an angle of his hand sparked a particularly strong wave of pleasure.

When Harry thought Louis was prepped enough, he let his fingers slide out, getting more blood to slick his cock with and guiding that to Louis’ entrance instead. Louis took over and held the Roman’s erection for him, lining it up with his body and gradually easing himself down, making both of them pant in rapture as he slid it further inside.

“I'll never get used to this,” Harry groaned, gently rolling his hips up to finish the job, biting his lip when he finally couldn't go any deeper. “Come here,” he rasped, pulling the whimpering Louis down by the hair and claiming his mouth as he started to fuck into him.

Louis’ hips responded to the rhythm and met the thrusts in time, the snug feeling of being stretched around Harry’s cock distracting him from their kisses as he uselessly breathed into Harry’s mouth.

Harry trailed his lips down Louis’ neck and bit into his upper shoulder to flood his body with endorphins, his arms wrapping tightly around Louis’ back to hold him steady as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, making him squirm and cry out regardless.

“Flip—flip me over,” Louis ordered hoarsely, squeaking when Harry did as he was asked and slammed him into the ground, his ankles locking over the small of Harry’s back when they were freed. “Faster, Harry,” he moaned, his nails digging into Harry’s arms. 

Harry took his fangs out and propped himself up by his hands, pounding into Louis’ hole and gazing down at him through hooded eyes. “Just look at you,” he grunted in worship, grabbing him by the hair once more and dropping his other arm down on his elbow, licking into his King’s agape mouth and losing himself in the madness of their love.

Louis whined with each thrust and arched his spine off the flattened daisies, his cock leaking as Harry hit the right spot every single time. He broke their kiss again and yanked the Roman all the way down on top of him, letting his legs fall away to give him room. “Hard as you can, love,” he said breathlessly, the two sharing smirks with their swollen lips.

Harry threw Louis’ left leg over to the other side, leaning back so it wouldn't hit him, and spinning his hips fully around when he took too long on his own.

Louis groaned from the new position and arched his hips up, his arms bent under him and fingers splayed out by his shoulders, claws digging into the dirt to ground himself. “Now,” he barked, screeching when the Roman snatched his hipbones and fucked him harder than he had in centuries, using every bit of his immortal strength to demolish him in the way Alexander was so very much addicted to.

“Fuck! Take it, baby,” Hadrian moaned, his core cramped beyond belief as they both bended time around them to utilize vampiric perception of speed and raw power. “Just take it.”

A stagnant sobbing groan poured from Louis’ throat as he was utterly and brutally dominated, and though it may have sounded like he was in excruciating pain, Hadrian knew not to stop. Or slow. If anything it meant go faster, though Louis doubted the other ancient had it in him.

“I missed ruining you, slut. I bet I could go harder, I know you love the pain,” Harry taunted, forcing his body to fuck faster and harder regardless of physical limit, his success validated when his lover started screaming. “Just like that, Alex. Let me hear it.”

“Hadrian!” Louis shrieked, his eyes flying open as he came so hard it physically hurt, streaking the innocent flowers with his not so innocent release as bit into his own arm to muffle his shrill screech of ecstasy.

Harry cried out and buried himself all the way inside Louis’ pulsing walls, his orgasm shattering across his nervous system like lightning as he filled his lover up completely, chuckling as his come dripped out around the base of his cock. “Holy Gods, Louixander. That was intense,” he panted, throwing his arms around Louis’ midsection as he flung them onto their sides, coming down from what felt like actual heaven.

“You...fuck me...so good,” Louis said without a shred of eloquence, his limbs twitching and spasming without control, only soothed when Harry shushed him and ran his palms over the restless areas.

“You're the best fuck in the world,” Harry seconded, spitting Louis’ hair out of his mouth and leaning over to kiss him on the temple. “Because we have...without a doubt...the best sex in the entire world.”

“That's an obvious one…” Louis croaked, coughing to no gratifying avail. “Zeus, I wrecked my throat.”

“Ahah! I have no sympathy for you wrecking your throat on _my name_ ,” Harry crooned proudly, inhaling the sweet scent of Louis’ neck and crashing back down on his side when his energy sizzled out again. “I just think it's funny that we came out here so as not to disturb anyone else,” he chuckled, snuggling in as close as he could and tightening his arms around his lover’s frame.

“We did not. Well I didn't at least. I came out here for the illusion of privacy. They couldn't see us, that's all I cared about,” Louis argued, closing his eyes and sighing in content.

“My Louixander. Always the exhibitionist. You want people to know how good I make you feel, I'm flattered,” the Roman teased, snorting when his love tried to throw an elbow back but it may as well have been a caress.

“I do love screaming it to the Gods, you're right about that,” he admitted, stifling his yawn and falling victim to another full-bodied jolt of aftershock.

“I don't think they heard much after a while,” Harry mentioned as he pet Louis’ side, “considering Martin and Tanner—”

“And Zayn and Niall are fucking right now, I know,” Louis finished for him, laughing at the distant moans coming from the house.

“Can't hardly blame them…” Harry said as he rose up to nibble on Louis’ ear, “we set a good example,” he purred, backing off when Louis erupted in giggles from his tickling breath.

“That we do,” Louis agreed, his gaze focusing on little white pedals in front of his eyes. “Flowers are a nice touch. Last time we were on concrete.”

“Hey, last time we had a _bitchin_ ’ view,” Harry defended, nuzzling the back of Louis’ neck and rubbing on his upper thigh. “We were practically in the clouds.”

“Yeah...that's also when everything went to shit and we didn't even notice.”

“That would have happened anyway, babe...whether we were fucking in the sky or not,” Harry said, flattening his finger on Louis’ waist to let a ladybug walk onto his skin.

“I know,” Louis sighed, cursing Auron yet again for fucking the world up when they'd just found each other. “Gods, I don't think I can move,” he laughed to change the topic, completely spent from their rough and iconic escapades.

“Good, I don’t want to. I never wanna move when I’m inside you. It’s the only place I belong,” he flirted, dropping his hand back down on Louis’ side when the ladybug spread its wings and flew away.

“We probably _should_ move, though,” Louis’ voice of reason said without his consent.

“Yeah...should,” Harry repeated, not making a single move to leave while several silent seconds ticked by, causing them both to laugh in agreement because as always, they were on the exact same page. Neither of them planned on taking that first step.

 

\---

 

“Did you guys have fun?” Louis cooed obnoxiously, cuddled under a blanket with his beaming lover on the couch, the pair having forced themselves to dress and return inside after many rounds of roshambo to see who would get up first. Harry had lost, of course.

“Like we could help it,” Zayn muttered, the other three vampires nodding accusingly and taking their random spots around the room.

Liam and Johnny stepped into the scene and sat down with them, the refreshed group speaking more of their plans and ideas for what to do when they had the entire army of Guardians waiting for the next call. They talked of taking Auron out first, they talked of splitting their numbers and taking the government establishments back from the predators; talked of turning the human militaries (who were most definitely underground plotting to drop bombs right now) to use their training to their advantage...they pitched numerous ideas but none could be acted upon until they had the Guardians working with them.

They were laughing about a stupid question Niall asked when Liam’s phone screeched from the kitchen, and Johnny hopped up to go answer it. Liam watched him jog over and decided to follow him, realizing that if it was an important call, he’d need to do the talking.

Harry and Louis listened in as the two picked up the receiver, hearing Beatrix’s anxious voice on the other end as she explained she’d found a sizeable group of righteous vampires holed up in an abandoned house in Peasmarsh, roughly eighty kilometers northeast from their location, but they’d been surrounded by predators and it was getting difficult to hold them back. Louis and Harry could hear the fierce roars of battle in the background, and they shot up to be of help.

Liam assured her that they were on their way and hung up the call, dashing back into the room and translating the message to anyone who may have not heard but everyone did, and they were ready.

“I’ll hold down the fort. Go,” Johnny urged to his vampire lover, crashing their lips together and shoving him backward.

“I’ll be right. Back,” Liam pledged, shouting to his upstairs vampires to come down and guard Johnny and the rest of the humans in their absence. After that was promised, Liam, and Louis’ group all flew out of the house, bypassing the adorable horizontal wooden gate at the end of the drive and veering in the general direction of Peasmarsh, led by the only vampire who had a clue as to where that was.

They tore through occasional groupings of trees and across the open and notoriously English hilly farmlands, meeting a miniature forest after crossing each one. They said nothing as they mentally prepared for the fight, Harry and Louis’ hands grasped together as they effortlessly matched pace. It was going well all things considered until the lovers’ noses detected it, and their hands could have broken the other’s from the force of their warning grip.

“Auron!” Harry called as he slid to a stop, whipping around and desperately trying to find his twin before he was able to sneak up on them. “Shit!” he cursed, grabbing Louis and running off as the group scrambled to keep up.

“Where is he!” Martin shouted over the wind, the group finding themselves in a particularly long stretch of trees amidst the empty fields.

“I don’t—”

And there he was. Him and about forty other predatory Elders. Harry growled and stopped yet again, turning back around to retreat when he found the way was now blocked. _Why didn’t I sense this earlier?_

They were quickly encircled by a force they couldn’t even hope to overcome with their small group, and what’s worse, Beatrix stepped out from behind the smirking Auron with a look of glee on her face.

“Beatrix!” Liam snarled, darting forward to attack before Zayn and Martin snatched his arms and held him back. “You were with _them_?”

“But I’m so good at keeping up appearances, aren’t I?” she mocked, pointing at the doomed vampires and cackling at their misfortune.

“Good work, Bea,” Auron complimented, patting her on the shoulder as he stepped forward to address his favourite couple. “Dear, _dear_ brother,” he sneered at Hadrian, raising his brows when his brother shoved Alexander behind him. “What, you think I came for him?” he snorted, stalking forward to the threatening hisses of every vampire he was approaching.

“Don’t you fucking touch him, Auron” Harry warned as he dug his claws into Louis’ side, itching for a fight but knowing he would lose against these numbers. There were too many Elders to count, and most were superior to him in age. This, as much it hurt to admit, looked like it might be the end.

“If I do, you won’t even know,” Auron said cryptically, the whole group tensing and hanging onto each other in true, unprecedented fear.

“I love you, Hadrian,” Louis whispered in the face of uncertainty, kissing his lover’s back and resting his forehead against his spine.

Harry sniffed and looked over his shoulder, the lovers’ shining eyes meeting pointedly and silently speaking all the things they didn't have the time for. “I love—”

Auron snapped his fingers as he quickly closed his eyes, and the blast of sunlight erupted out of nowhere from all sides, knocking every member of Harry’s group out with pained, _delicious_ cries of torment. He opened his eyes after the explosion subsided and laughed victoriously at the heap of bodies in the clearing, spinning Bea around in a circle in genuine gratitude.

Louis was in indescribable agony but he pushed through, being the only one strong enough to withstand a blast that powerful. He cracked his red eyes open and a tear dropped onto the soil beneath him when the first thing to see was the slack and unconscious face of his beloved Harry right in front of his own. He inched forward and placed a sadly potential last kiss on his lover’s lips, making Auron drop Beatrix in shock because he definitely hadn’t expected Alexander to power through that.

Louis poured all of his love and emotion into that kiss and broke away with a grunt of exertion, fighting through the uselessness in his body to yank himself onto his knees. He panted for a while to gather more energy, then flexed his thigh muscles to lift his knees off the ground, his tendons feeling like they were about to snap under the pressure. With this kind of weakness, he was basically a human right now. Nevertheless, he wrenched off the ground in one heroic show of valor, stumbling a bit as he trained his murderous eyes on the dumbfounded Auron.

“Okay, I’m impressed,” Auron admitted, skipping over to the King and catching him just as he buckled under his own weight and started to fall. “You’re amazing, love,” he praised, petting Alexander’s hair and then using it to roughly yank his head (by default his lethally extended fangs) back and keep him at a safe distance.

“I’m...going...to kill—”

“Shh,” Auron interrupted, letting the King sag in his arms with a hand in the center of his spine, dipping him back and bending down as if they were ballroom dancing. “Were you there?” he asked, shaking the King impatiently when he only growled at him in rage. “In the dream, were you there?”

Louis didn't respond with words, but his eyes widened a fraction to hear that same question he'd had validated by the only other party involved. Auron must have picked up on his expression because he grinned like the cheshire cat and slightly shook his head in wonderment.

“Fascinating,” Auron whispered, wishing they could talk about it more but he had things to do first. “I'm sorry to interrupt your night, but I'm a very busy immortal now, and after all these centuries, Azazel is just _dying_ to meet you,” he purred, snorting at his own comedic irony over the term ‘dying.’

“You treacherous dog. _You're gonna_ _regret_ —”

“Ah ah ah,” Auron _tsk_ ed, once again cutting off Alexander’s baseless snarls. He wasn't in the position to deliver any threats right now, and they both knew that. “Usually when I say this, it's an ominous, distant future kind of thing,” he began as he stood them upright and held Alex steady by his upper arms. “But this time I mean it,” he said, planting his lips on Alexander’s for a few glorious moments because couldn't fight back, and then pulling back to give his helpless love a loaded wink. “I'll see you _very_ soon, Lexy.”

Auron then let go and whipped around to protect himself, snapping his fingers and eliciting a second wave of pure sunlight to detonate all around the panicking King.

Louis’ veins burned like lava and his already compromised body gave out completely, falling heavily to the ground without any hope of getting back up this time. Of course his head hit a sodding rock on his plummet down to the dirt, and the last cognizant memory he had was thinking that this was a really shitty way to go to sleep.

But that was nothing in comparison to where he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm currently accepting death threats, LOL. Sorry, but if you know ANYTHING about me by now, it's that I get a massive erection for inflicting brutal cliffhangers on my sweet and innocent readers. Sorry ;)  
> Beatrix is Helena Bonham Carter.  
> Alright, guys! We've come a long way, but this is indeed the end of the sequel. I've enjoyed (almost) every second of writing this, and now it's time to say goodbye for a bit. I'm taking at least a week off to STRICTLY outline the third book, and just take some time to really formulate what I want to happen and how to get that across. The creative process, especially for this bitch, is arduous, and needs a stupid amount of patient focus. Trust me, you won't want me to rush this. I need time. After I get it outlined, I will write it. Just as prolifically as the others, but you're going to have to wait. I took a month after getting the first one out to start uploading this one after finishing the jail chapter, and it wasn't enough. Even though I told myself I'd upload after I got to that scene, it was NOT ENOUGH. It was way too soon, and it stressed me out. (I was still kinda sick, so that played a role, and this one will probably go quicker respectively) HOWEVER, that being said, this one may take way longer ANYWAY because this is the third in the trilogy. This NEEDS to be perfect, and I can't risk uploading before I'm done because absolutely no consistency errors can happen. I refuse. So I'm sorry to those who have picked this up recently and blown through this whole thing, it's gonna feel like quitting cold turkey now. But I will never stop until all four books are out, I hope you know that by this point, and if you think I've forgotten or something, feel free to come to me on tumblr, and I will give you my current word count to calm you lol. Thank you for all of your support, and I can't wait to have you back for this last stretch before the prequel. Pray to Jupiter for Louis and Harry's success, cuz it's not looking too good right now, is it? They could use your well wishes ;)  
> Until next time, Jax out.
> 
> BOOK 3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10952577/chapters/24376176

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me !!  
> wubwubnparmaham.tumblr.com


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